THE CANDY SUCKERS
by PanicButton
Summary: ReidCentric AUish Follow up from 'Learning the Rules of the Game.' A new shop opens - and the Candy has a strange effect on the locals. /some mild slash/language/whump.
1. Chapter 1

**THE CANDY SUCKERS**

_**Once in a young lifetime one should be allowed to have as much sweetness as one can possibly want and hold. -Judith Olney**_

* * *

I couldn't think of a name but that really wasn't important right now. I'd had a million and one thoughts going through my head since my decision to do this and this is where we are at.

The Shop…

I call it that for want of a better description, is in a small backstreet. The buildings here are cramped together for the most part but this little beauty has a small dirt track to one side of it, which leads to garages and a scruffy little parking area, and a private drive way the other side of it leading the to the kitchen and a big workshop. If I'd drawn out the plans specially it couldn't have worked out better. It had been used in the past as a bakery, so kitchens were there and usable. The workshop had been used for motor repairs at some distant past but right now was vacant. The other shops down this little street were a barbers and a cobblers and a picture framers and a tobacconists. A shop selling hand embroidered kids clothes stood directly opposite and next to my drive way was a place which did quilting. It was a quiet place but for the fact right at the end was the school. Every morning a load of kids and parents walked right past what would be the most alluring shop in the street. They wont be able to keep their brats away from my front door once I get started for real.

The shop its self is not very big. Not much more than a counter and a few shelves, but that is all I need really. Directly behind this room is a small lounge where I can ensconce Spencer when I'm in the front. Until he is able to do the serving that is. Beyond that room is the kitchen belonging to the flat, rather than the works kitchen, and a flight of stairs between the two which takes you up to a bathroom and two bed rooms.

Now here is the next thing. Do I insist on sharing with Spencer or do we stay apart. He has shown no sign of wanting me yet and I'm keeping away from him in that manner until he does and so it seems right that we have separate rooms. I'm telling people that he is my kid brother who is suffering withdrawing from drugs, which is partly true as drugs are involved here, only it's me drugging him. He still goes off into wild screaming howling rages if I don't keep him sedated. I'm hoping to be up and running by the Christmas holidays. Although by then there will be no kids going to school, so I'll have to get my street team out. OK I will have to hand out flyers. I don't think Spence is even ready to do that yet. Simple instructions he is coping with now. And he doesn't stink.

He's eating better too and that sickly thin appearance is slowly waning, but he's still too thin, and still sickly looking for anyone else. For me he is beginning to look more like Spencer. He doesn't feel like him yet though.

I got a bloke in to paint what needed to be painted and varnish what needed to be done. I got someone else in the put down a nice new floor I could better keep clean. Kids are filthy animals. Dirty feet, sticky hands, revolting things really, but that's hardly the point. The point here is to fix my boy and to have fun at the same time.

I've cleaned and scrubbed and scraped at every surface in the place. I've got in beds and bedding and even new clothing for him and I've got a great new two man shower thing installed. The plumber wanted to know who the lucky lady was. I grabbed his arse and winked. He didn't ask again. He did a good job though. It looks fabulous, but I've not used it. A two man shower really needs to be baptised with the two men in question.

-o-o-o-

I sit all day.

I sit all day and listen to him moaning on and on about things. I don't want to be here but if he's not around I'm either sleeping or cuffed to something to stop me getting away.

I feel so tired.

I feel so confused.

I don't know where I am and I don't know who he is. I don't _think_ I know who he is. Sometimes I get a flash of memory and something will feel or sound familiar. He will touch my arm or take my hand and it will feel nice, but I don't know why. He stares at me. When it's dark outside and he's stopped with the cleaning or boiling of sugar he will stand leaning against the wall and he will stare at me for hours. He wont move. His eyes constantly on me. If I'm not restrained and I'm free to walk around he follows me. He even follows me to the bathroom. He runs the tub for me and adds bubbles and tells me to wash.

I have a small bedroom and a large bed which I am always so sleepy by the time I arrive at that I cant do anything but sleep. Sometimes he cuffs my hands to a ring set in the wall and then leaves and locks the door. Sometimes he spends the night sitting in the corner of my room watching me.

I'd ask for help.

If I could.

He doesn't let me talk to people though. He keeps me away from them.

A few times I had the energy to fight him. To try and get away, but he held me down and forced things in my mouth and though I kicked and screamed and begged for help from someone, nothing happened. No one came. I don't know why no one can see what he is doing to me. Why has no one asked questions of it?

I don't understand.

There is a park. A small park where he takes me sometimes. Mainly on early evenings. When it's not raining or snowing, or doing anything else dire he'll take me t the park, but I'm always too tired to do anything once we get there.

One time, just this once I felt something. I knew it was wrong what was happening, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. He feeds the birds. He brings bits of bread and throws it for them and I know he's going to do this so I wait. I wait until he gets up and walks away from me and I move. I get up and run. I make it as far as the park gates before he is on my back. There are people there watching and I really don't know what they thought was going on. I was shouting at them for help. Asking them, begging them to get him off me but they just stood and watched and made "tutting" noises and one guy even helped him by holding my hands above my head whilst Floyd pushed something into my mouth. He was talking to me all the time. 'Its OK. It's going to be alright.' He keeps saying but I think he is talking to himself not me. How can this be alright?

'Please someone help me.' I say.

'I am helping you Spencer. It's OK.' He says and I can see people slowly walking away from us and my hands are released and I am lying just inside the park gates on the rough stone pathway and now he is hissing at me. 'Don't you try anything like that again you idiot. Cant you see I'm trying to help you here? Get up. We have to go back now.' And he is dragging me to my feet, but I can hardly walk straight now and I can feel the energy slowly being sapped as we make our way back. I am nearly asleep by the time I sit on the couch in the small back room. When I wake up again it's dark and he is there against the wall watching me. My head is pounding and I feel sick. I've been stripped down to my pants and shirt.

He is smoking. Always when he's not with the sugar he is smoking. He smiles at me when my eyes meet his and something is there. Something about him and puts a strange twisting in my stomach and I take in a deep breath. Slowly he leaves his wallside refuge and approaches me. He doesn't sit on the couch but knees on the floor next to my booted feet. 'Hey you.' He says to me and a hand rests on my leg and I want to reach out and touch his hair. I want to feel if he is real because it is making my head spin and I think I'm going to be sick.

'Hey.' I say back and the back of my fingers are touching his cheek and there is something here I know. Somewhere deep inside of me there is something, but it's not going to let me know what that thing is today. I move my hand back again and pull away from him. The feeling has gone. Once again he is a stranger. 'Can I have one?' I motion to the cigarettes he has and he sighs and moves back.

'Sure – but you don't smoke.'

'Oh.' And I push my boots off and pull my feet up onto the couch and he doesn't give me a smoke but he makes me a hot sweet coffee and then stands with this back against the wall again watching me. Waiting for something.

-o-o-o-

I wanted to get rid of it.

I didn't want this thing growing in me, but, but it's a life and no matter how repulsed I am by the whole situation I cant kill it.

I went to the clinic and had a scan and saw this thing living inside me and I vomited and I cried and I curled up in the clinic on the bed and made the biggest fuss ever, but still I can't get rid of it. They offer me someone to talk to but the person I need to talk to has disappeared off the face of the planet.

I still spend my evenings looking out of the window but it is for a different reason now. I'm not longing for him to arrive I am living in fear that he does.

He said he would come back, but I told him I was getting rid of it. Of her. It is a girl. He told me it would be. Now I lie on my bed and rub my hands over my slightly swollen abdomen. I can't work. I've been signed off for now. Too pregnant and too unstable. I keep bursting into very uncharacteristic tears and I spend a lot of time in the ladies room trying not to be sick. I think Hotch wanted to keep me there to keep an eye on me, but there really was no point. I can't do field work and staying behind was just making the whole thing feel worse.

The sudden hammering on the door is a pleasant release from the tension I am feeling right now. I slide off the bed and pull my clothes back of properly as I pad my way to my door.

Why I did it I don't know. I opened the door without checking and the person the other side wasn't Hotch as I had expected, it's a shorter younger much dirtier version of Floyd. He smirks a grubby face at me and raised hid eyebrows. 'Gonna let me in as we are virtually related?' And he's pushed his way past me and into my apartment.

'Dad can't be here right now.' He tells me. 'So I thought I'd keep an eye on your for him. I'd glad to see you didn't get rid of it.' He points to my stomach which I suddenly feel very protective over. 'I'll look after you if you let me stay here.'

'Ah…no. Get out.'

'I won't bring anyone back with me, but I'm getting noticeably dirty. They like their whores a bit cleaner. At least so they don't stink quite as much. You don't mind if I use your shower do you Aunt Em. I won't be long.' And he is stripping off in my lounge.

'Get the hell out!' I shout at him now but to no avail. He is almost naked now and I can see how thin and scrawny he actually is and how dirty. When he pushes down his boxer shorts I turn my back and walk to the bathroom. I want to scream and be sick and call Hotch, but all that will wait. I stay calm. I have to stay calm. I turn on the water and put out fresh towels and soap. I then manage to get out of the room and let him enter without looking at him. I let out a long sigh of relief when the door closes and I know he is in there and I'm out here. I grab his revolting clothing and quickly go to my small laundry room and put all of this dirty clothes in the wash. I add extra soap and turn on the machine …I then grab my cell phone and make a call.

'Hotch. Sam is here.'

I don't have to say more. He will be here.

-o-o-o-

A few more days and we can open. I've prepared stuff until there is no room left in the candy jars. I sort of specialise in sugar candy of all shapes and flavours. I've made round minty ones and ones on sticks that taste of strawberries. I have tiny sugar strands and big sugar and nutty chunks. I have made ones that look like eye balls…and I've made sugar houses and dogs and cats and horses. I've made a sugar Santa's and sugar reindeer and I will make anything you request – out of sugar. I love the giant jars of sucking candies and today the school lets out early. It is the final day before the Christmas holidays and so outside the shop I set up a small table. I pull on an apron. I wash and shave and I put on a pair of glasses. Spencer I haul out drugged up and drooling and place him on a chair where I can keep an eye on him and today I had out candies for free.

Except it's not really for free is it? Nothing is ever for nothing. The candy Santa comes with an extra something special.

I need to make sure I get repeat custom.

They take the candy and I smile at the stinking brats and at the parents who are looking at me with suspicion and at Spencer with slight alarm, but they'll do nothing. I smile back and wish them happy holidays and as the candy slips into their mouths the look of confusion and disgust and doubt leaves their faces and they smile back and take their vile offspring by their hands and walk away.

They will be back though. I clear up the mess left behind and take it all back to the shop and then gently guide Spencer back again.

And it happens.

Just like that.

'Floyd?' he sounds confused and nervous.

'Spence?' He is standing in the middle of the lounge looking around him.

'Where have you been?' Oh god …he looks so lost and vulnerable. I want to have him so badly. This is my Spence. This is who I have been waiting for.

'I've been right here babes. Waiting for you to come back to me.'

* * *

**A/N: This is an obvious carry on from the last one…I felt I needed a new beginning. Thanks for reading. Pbxxx**


	2. Chapter 2 Sweetness

Sweetness 

* * *

Perfect.

When I come out of the shower dripping come kind of slime behind me and a green towel wrapped around me I discover the bitch has taken my clothes.

'Well I guess I'm staying for a while then.' I snap at her.

Not that I mind her washing my kit. I need to be at least slightly clean to get enough money to get what I need. You might be surprised, I dunno, maybe not, but having your head chopped off kinda has side effects and one of them is intense bloody pain. All the time. Sure dad can reanimate dead stuff, but he doesn't provide pain killers. No, actually he does, but not in pill form and he's not around anyway. I stand in a drippy puddle and look at her. She won't throw me out. We are kin now. I try to smile at her, but I'm not like dad so much. She doesn't do much for me.

'Dry yourself.' She mutters and walks away towards her stuffy kitchen. I can smell coffee and stuff and she's making drinks and food. I don't dry myself though I just stand and wait. I want my clothes back.

'I want my clothes back!' I call out to her and she says back.

'Well if they survive the wash then you can have them back.'

And here she is with three mugs of coffee on a tray.

'Who's joining us?' I ask her. I've still not moved from my place in the puddle.

But she ignores me now and puts the tray down then walks to the door and leans on the wall and is waiting for something. I try to figure out what her game is. She's a woman, how the hell can anyone ever work out what they're thinking. It's a light rapping on the door that she responds to and I'm feeling vulnerable and very under dressed standing here in my slime.

It's Aaron. I should have known. I should have sensed him, but this pregnant slut is distracting me. He walks in and just stands looking at me for a short while and then he asks me.

'What are you doing here?' He doesn't look pissed off, no, he more looks sort of confused maybe, or is it hurt? He doesn't like me being here in a towel.

'She nicked my clothes. I can hardly leave looking like a drowned rat can I?'

'You know what I am talking about. Prentiss have you a bathrobe or something he can use? Sam I want to know why you came here.'

I look at Aaron and then I watch the whore go to her bedroom to get me something else to put on. I don't think I want to be spilling my heart out when she's around. I take some squishy wet steps towards him. 'Where the fuck else can I go? They kicked me out, dad has gone. No one fucking wants me around. What the hell did I ever do? I never chose this bleeding life style, but when that's all you have…..tell me what I'm meant to do?'

I'm talking crap. But it's having an OK effect on the big guy.

'You can't stay here. I'll help you Sam but you need to start cooperating.'

I put my hand out to him. 'I need money. I need a base, somewhere other than behind the freaking bins to live. I'll be dead – again – before the spring if I live out there.'

He takes my arm and pulls me closer to him. 'I'm not giving you money Sam. I'm not going to enable your life style. I will help you though. I will take you back to my place and I'll give you somewhere to sleep and a roof over your head. I will need something back from you though.'

'What?' My first thought is my arse…he wants to screw me, but I don't think he would do that. I don't know what he would want from me.

'When your things are ready I'll take you back to my place and we will talk about it. I realise this is not going to be easy for you Sam but I do need you to agree with the arrangement.'

'You've not told me yet what the deal is.' Aunt Em is back again and she's passing me a green bathrobe to put on. It's the same colour as the towel I have around me. I let it drop to the floor and I shrug the robe on. 'I need a smoke.' I tell them both.

'No.' I am told.

'It's a no smoking unit.' Em tells me.

'You bloody smoke here! And you're up the duff.' And I see her cheeks colour slightly and she avoids looking at Hotch as she walks away to see if my clothes are done with yet, which they're not, but it gets her away from having to face Aaron.

So this is why I end up at Aaron's place. It's nice here and he shows me a room I can have but straight off I know there is going to be a problem. I'm informed that there is to be no smoking in the house. That's fine. I tell him I'll do my stuff in the back. He then he wants to know what my stuff is, so I tell him about the agony I am always in and how I live with constant headaches and stuff and so he asks again.

'What stuff?'

'Just a few drugs for head pains.'

'Show me.'

'Well I don't have any right now, I'm going to have to go and get some.'

'It's the middle of the night.'

'I know Aaron. I know – but I get my best – erm – jobs done at night.'

'You can't go out selling your body for drugs Sam.' He sounds quite firm on the matter.

'I can see no other way of getting them. I need them, it's not like I can go to a doc and ask for something to cure it is it? I'm not likely to get what I need. In general they docs don't have the facilities to assist someone who's had their head chopped off.'

'I'm not having you living that sort of life Sam. I will let you live here rent free but you're not to go out selling your self. I'll get what you need.'

'I'll write a list.' I tell him and then continue. 'But I like hustling. It gives me something to do. I am horny all the time Aaron. Really it is a form or therapy.'

'Write down what you need and no more hustling. There has to be another way and that other way does not include bringing clients back to my home.'

'Oh well like I'm gonna be doing that! You think I'm stupid.' I fold my arms and flop down onto my bed. I can feel my head throbbing now I really could do with something but I realise that's not going to happen and so I lie back on the bed and stare at the ceiling for a while. He is there watching me.

'And we will get you enrolled in school.'

'Oh funny.'

'I'm serious.'

I turn my head to look at him but he is leaving the room. 'I've never been to school in my life. I'm not going to start now.'

'I'm going to help you out Sam. I told you there would be things I need in return. One of those things is school. You're not stupid. You will cope.' And he's gone.

'Fuck you!' I shout at him and it seems like a good idea so I relieve my tension and think of Aaron.

-o-o-o-

I felt sick.

I felt light headed.

I didn't know what was going on, but I knew that finally out of some dark place things started to feel right again. Floyd held me to him. That's all. He didn't touch or grope or molest me, he just stood with his arms tightly around me and his face pushed tightly into the side of my neck. I held him close too. I'd been living in a foggy nightmare for as long as I could remember. I was still confused as to what was going on, but I wasn't about to ask too many questions. I didn't want to lose him again. I just wanted to stand and feel his closeness.

I don't know how long we just stood there for, but I feel that he was as relieved to see me as I was him. I wanted to ask where he had been, but I was afraid, deathly afraid of losing him again. I don't know what I would do if he slipped from my arms and was gone again. All that time of confusion and fear and now this, this complete pleasure.

We spend the night together. Side by side. My back to his front and him holding me close. I can feel his breath on the back of my neck and the occasional kiss and lick before I drift off into a sleep filled with my usual nightmares.

I dream he holds me down and forces some bitter liquid into my mouth. I dream that he takes my writs and restrains them to the bed post. I dream that he leaves me there alone in a drugged sleep, but when I wake in the morning he is still there behind me holding me tightly and keeping me warm. There is a horrible taste in my mouth though which is quickly removed when I was pulled over onto my back and had my mouth thoroughly crushed by Floyds and the flavours of sweet coffee and chocolate and strawberries and tobacco fills my mouth. We cling to each other as though the world was going to end and my stomach is lurching and twisting and my body is making demands but we just hold and touch and run hands over each other and I don't know when I last felt this content and secure. It is like nothing can spoil it. Nothing can ever ruin this perfect moment. I can hear his heavy breaths and I can feel the way his mouth sucks and licks at my lips and then across to that little place just below my ear. I hear hot whispered breaths across my ear and his eyes are closed. He tastes wonderful. That taste of his sweat and skin and just that taste of Floyd I have missed for so long. It fills me totally. It is like the first time all over again without actually doing the act its self.

'We need to wait. I want you to be sure.' He tells me. But I am sure. I will wait though. I know deep down he is right.

Floyd and I went to the kitchen and together poured cereal into bowls and added sugar, which we seem to have an unending supply of and ice cold milk. We sat mostly in silence facing each other. His foot occasionally gently touching the side of my leg and a sort of wicked smirk spreading over his face. I smiled back at him and watched as he lit up probably his fifth smoke of the day.

'You smoke too much. It will kill you.' I'm sipping hot coffee now.

'No it won't babes, don't worry about me.' And he inhales a deep hard breath of smoke. 'I got something for you, for when this day happened.' And he stands up. I'm not sure what to expect and he rummages in a drawer and then comes and stands behind me placing a brown paper bag on the table next to my white cereal bowl. Take it to the lounge and enjoy. I need to get out to the shop.' I pick up the bag and it feels like there are magazines or something inside. I turn and frown at him but stand anyway and do what he has told me to do. I don't question that I should sit in the lounge. I always do this don't I?

He pulls on hat and apron and puts on his glasses and a smile and leaves me sitting in the warmth of the small back room.

The bag contains a collection of obscure graphic novels. They seem to all be basically on the same subject though. Murder and rape. I frown at the content in places but read them anyway. There's nothing else to do. There are no books and there is no television. I curl up with my coffee and pictures and try to relax.

By lunchtime I want to get out of the building for a little while. Floyd has produced a plate of pink sticky stuff which you stick your finger in and get very messy with. It tastes of some kind of mixed fruit and for a short while we dip and lick from each others fingers and mouths.

'I need to get back to the shop. Lots of orders coming in too.' He looks happy. I don't know if I've ever actually seen him look happy when he's not having sex. It's good. It feels good. He makes me another drink and kisses the top of my head and I reach out and take his hand and I tell him…

'Thank you.'

And he has gone again and I can hear him talking to someone about sugar. I can't remember him ever having this candy making gift before but I seem to have forgotten a lot of things.

By two in the afternoon I decide to go for a walk. I slide my feet into my boots and pull on a jacket. I think I should tell him I am going, but he is talking to people again and he doesn't like me being around the customers. I stand wondering what to do for about ten minutes and I listen to his voice drifting through the building. He sounds happy. For some reason it send little alarm bells ringing in my head. It's almost un-natural for him to laugh and be nice to children. It's like a game and I wonder what he is playing because I don't think the customers are aware of this yet. Again I think I should say something to him, but I can't, not when he is busy. I will go for a walk down to the park and feed the birds like Floyd usually does. I grab some bread from the kitchen and slip out of the back door into the chilly winter air. I didn't realise it was so cold. I should probably have put on a hat and gloves, but decide to keep walking. I will warm up as I walk.

By the time I get to the park I realise that I don't actually feel too good. My head feels foggy and wrong and I think I should have brought my glasses with me. It is bitterly cold now and my hands sting they are so cold. It is getting dark now too and as I throw the bread quickly I am thinking that I shouldn't have done this. Floyd will be pissed off with me and I'll destroy that happy atmosphere in the house. I am about to turn when it happens. Something hard hits me across the back of the head. I let out a small yelp and feel my knees giving way under my weight. As I fall to my hands and knees I think at first that it's Floyd and I start to apologise.

'I'm sorry…' I mumble, but the voice I hear isn't Floyd's.

'Junky scum.' The voice says as something hard catches me in the side of my head. I think maybe it is a boot. It feels like a boot and I try to crawl away.

'I'm not – please stop.' I say, but I don't think they hear me. There is more than one person here I'm sure of it as whatever hit the back of my head now smacks me across my face and a deep darkness starts to envelope me, but I must stay awake, I cant sleep, not here, not now. So I curl up tightly and put my arms around my head in an attempt to fend off the blows. The kicks don't stop and in the darkness I am grabbed by the arms and dragged towards the kids play area. I kick and I want to shout for help but I don't seem to be able to talk right now. They take me to the swings and as someone holds me on the cold ice covered play ground someone else is kicking me. I feel something give way in my chest as the boots strike me over and over in the back and ribs and head.

'We don't want your sort around her. Filth.' I am told and as quickly as they arrived they are gone again and I am lying on my back trying to look at the night sky but my eyes won't focus.

I know I have to move. I have to get away from here. Get back home somehow, but firstly as I move carefully onto my side I vomit then start coughing. I can taste sugar and blood in my mouth and when I try to breathe in through my nose I realise that too is bleeding. I roll over now to my stomach. I have to try to get up off this cold floor. I can't stay here all night. The cold will kill me if they don't come back and finish what they started. I reach out and hold onto the cold metal support of the swing and manage to pull myself up to my knees before the world spins and I fall back down onto my front smacking my face onto the hard ground. Again I try to curl up. At least I can try to keep as warm as I can and so for now lie here and wonder why this has been done and who I have been mistaken for and I try to stay awake. Someone will find me soon. I know they will, but please let it be soon. I can feel warm patches where I am bleeding from my head and face and I can feel it trickling down the side of my face and out of my nose making a small warm puddle of redness for me to keep warm in.

I'm not sure what happens. Either it gets darker, or I have closed my eyes.

I think it's started to rain.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3 Just for Kicks

Just for Kicks

* * *

I knew he had left. I could feel him watching me. If he didn't think I'd know then he must be pretty stupid still. I took down my orders and gave some orange tooth rotters to some brats. They'll be back. It means closing early so I can go get Spencer back and explain why he shouldn't leave without me. I don't know how long the shit in the dipping sugar will last. I close the door with a frown on my face and flip over the "closed" sign and pull down the blind on the door. It's getting dark already and so I doubt there will be many more customers now, but I could have started with this bloody stuff I have to make up, but no, I have to go looking for my wayward fuck partner. Well that's what he will be by tonight anyway. I intend baptising the shower tonight.

I remove the glasses and apron and snatch the stupid hat off my head and place them on a shelf behind the counter and turn off the lights to leave. Funny you know. I like this place. I run my hand happily down the door frame then turn and leave via the rear door. I don't bother locking up. Someone just dare nick something from me.

I dare you.

Give me a reason to make a chilli.

I know he walked towards the park. I saw him walk by the shop in that direction. It's colder than I thought it was. I have my shirt sleeves rolled up as I walk down the deserted side street The Shop is in and now it is dark and it feels like it's going to rain. Great. I best find him quickly. I have images in my head of the two of us warming up in that shower and a sort of almost contented smirk crosses my face.

I know something is wrong before I get to the park.

I can feel it.

I walk faster not quite being able to work out if it is just my anger that he left without me or if he's in trouble. It's a relief in a way when I see him standing there in the dark throwing bread for the birds.

I pull back into the shadows and just watch him. He looks happy and relaxed. I should go over there and slap him around for walking off and not letting me know but I don't want to spoil the view.

When the others walk over to him I take a step forward. I think about calling out a warning to him, but I don't. The view just got better. I watch them hit him across the back of the head. I watch as he goes down and the kicked starts and I should go and help him. I should go and kill the bastards, but I don't. Already a plan is forming in my head. This could all work out for the best. I pull back again into the shadows and just watch them. I know I will go and tear their balls off if they molest him but they don't seem to want that. They drag him to where the swings are and so carefully I follow. All along the edge of this play area is a line of low bushes, so here is where I stay and watch them smack and kick my Spence. I watch them leave and I make note of the smell. I will know who they are. I'll get them another time. For something and my stomach rumbles at the thought of my big cooking pot.

Then I watch as he starts to get up off the cold ground. I almost, but only almost take a step forwards to help him, but he falls back down. I hear a crunch as his face hits the ground and he moans and rolls onto his side and curls up and now the rain starts.

Now would be a good time to go and help him. I can't just leave him there. I know that. I know I will go and help him eventually, but right now I am going to crouch here in the shadows and look at my babes lying bleeding there as it starts to rain. Not just any old rain but that sort of rain that hurts cos it's so freaking cold. You must know the sort I mean. I'm just in my shirt sleeves and I can feel it's cold but it doesn't bother me. The changes in temperature never have really bothered me too much. The little plan I had forming in my head is solidifying nicely now as the rain gets heavier.

How long am I crouched here getting wet? I'm not sure, but it's well into the evening when I decide to go and check him out. I walk over to him slowly and squelch down next to him. 'Spence?' I say and put my hand on his shoulder. I don't get a response. I need to panic and call for help or something maybe? I'm not sure. I shake him slightly. 'Spence, wake up.' I use a louder voice, but still there is nothing. My hands are so cold that they are stiff and uncomfortable but I reach gently under his jacket and feel the side of his neck. A pulse. It's not the strongest I've ever felt. I sit back on my heels and look at him. I can see the warm blood he is lying in. Actually not such warm blood now. He has stopped bleeding maybe. Now, I think under normal circumstances he should be in hospital, but this is a long way from normal and that is the last place I need him right now. The blood tests for a start will show up all sorts of shit which shouldn't be there. I shake him again on his shoulder and run my fingers over the side of his face. 'Wake up babes.' I say, now moving my face closely so he should be able to feel my breath on his ear.

I hear him make a slight noise which is a good start, so I push him over onto his back to get a better look at the damage done. It begins to dawn on this way over sugared brain of mine that maybe whoever did this actually did some serious damage and a trip to a hospital might be in order. 'Shit.' I mutter and run my fingers slowly over his face. The movement wakes him up fully and his eyes seem to want to open in alarm and his hands come up to defend him self. 'It's me. It's OK I've got you.'

He coughs horrible wet bloody coughs which spray my already soaked clothes with fresh red blood. I need to get him home quickly and without anyone seeing this mess cos I really don't want them making a fuss and calling medics. I can fix this given some time. I'm sure of it. I just don't know why they picked on him. You don't get someone more inoffensive than Spencer. I push him onto his side again and then I stand behind him and slide my hands under his arms and try to get him at least to his knees but when he cries out in pain I stop and move back around in front of him. 'You need to get up Spence. I have to get you home.' I thought he was going to say something and maybe he was but the coughing starts again and he manages to spray me in the face this time and I'm getting pissed off with him. 'For fuck's sake Spencer get the fuck up and come home. It's pissing with rain and I'm soaked to the sodding skin.' I am getting snappy with him now.

He moves slowly onto his front and then just lies there groaning and the temptation to give him a bit of kicking too is almost over whelming but I can't do that.

I don't want to do that.

I do want to do that.

'Get up!' And I'm shouting at him now because he is causing me to lose control of my temper and I've kept it in check for a while now. I have my routine and he is messing with it. Still he doesn't move from the bloody puddle he is in so I do it. I don't want to; it just burst from me in one huge kick. 'Get – up!' Two kicks. 'Get the fuck up!' Four kicks. OK six. Six of them but the last four were not too hard really. In the grand scheme of things, as far as kicks go, they were quite mild really. For me. For Spence. Get him onto his back again and then bend down and pick him up in a firemen's lift over my shoulder. I'm not happy about this. I am a long bloody way from happy. It's still pissing it down with rain and for now that's all right as it will cover up the blood trail. A bit, not totally there seems to be a lot of blood leaking from him now I've moved him – and kicked him some – but gentle kicks remember.

I stumble my way back towards home. Each of my steps produces a groan or a coughing fit from him. I'm sure his ribs are either broken or at least badly bruised. I'll sort him out later this is just a kicking. Nothing a warm shower can't fix. OK a warm shower plus. We like that bit of extra don't we? 'Spencer shut up you sound like a moaning school girl.'

It's not the easiest journey home. Firstly it's hard to see in the dark when it's raining. Secondly the ground is wet. Thirdly and all the rest of the numbers, I don't want to be seen, this partly cos I don't want people insisting he needs hospital and partly because I would like the bastards who did this to think he got up and walked home. For this reason I take the back exit via the dirt track and manage to get myself thoroughly bloody filthy with mud.

I'm not a happy Floyd by the time I slide my way to the back door and I rather glad I didn't bother locking up, but at the time I didn't realise I was going to be gone for so long. Who's gonna nick my vast sugar supply though? The kitchen feels overly warm when I finally manage to get us both through the door. I kick it closed behind me and make my way still with a groaning moaning Spencer over my shoulder. 'OK we are back now you can stop the performance now.' I say between my teeth. I feel like just chucking him down on the kitchen floor and going to bed now but I also want to get all the muck off him and get out of these wet clothes and into something more comfortable and so it's directly up the stairs I go with him.

A nasty muddy mess is being left behind me and it's kind of making me mad because it will be me cleaning the shit up off the floor as Spencer is going to be doing not much of anything for a while. I make it to my bedroom with him and as the door was already open it makes things easier for me. I flop him down onto the bed and turn and flick the light on. When I turn back and look at him my stomach does one of those horrible knotting jumping things it does occasionally. Not often it does this and I'm not sure why it's doing it now. Either the blood or the sight of all those rising bruises or maybe it's just because he looks so damned beautiful. I just stand and look at him for a little while. I can smell the blood and the sweat and rainwater and mud and under all those smells I can smell my Spencer. I kick off my own boots and strip off my shirt and pull off my dirty work trousers and then get to work on him.

His feet are fine. I look at his toes carefully though and kiss each perfect one gently and then undo his jeans and belt and drag the nasty wet things off his slender body. I can immediately see the bruising around his hips and on his thighs. Again I am forced to just stand and look. He's awake. I know that much cos he's still groaning and moaning and whimpering pathetically, but he still look so fuckable that it makes my mouth water. 'Later.' I say to myself and drag the rest of the clothing off him. It seems with each layer more injuries show up. By the time he is in just his boxers I can see the black and red marks all up both sides of his ribs. I can see the marks on his arms where they dragged him and nasty black bruises on his abdomen. They weren't messing around when they kicked him. Or was that me? Did I do this to him? I run my fingers through my hair and try to remember all that happened and for a horrible, or is it satisfying, moment it is me hitting him and dragging him and kicking him. 'Get up.' I tell him. 'You need to wash.' And I turn and walk to the bathroom. I prepare the shower and let the water warm up and wait for him. I did hear a crash and a groan but that was as far as it went so I need to investigate that.

He is laying on the floor next to the bed on his side. I walk quickly to him and kneel next to him. 'Babes.' I say being the gentle loving boyfriend I intend to be. 'Let me help you.' And he doesn't talk to me but nods slowly and his fingers touch my arm. I manage to get him into a sitting position and then with an arm over my shoulder I pull his skinny arse off the floor and slowly, very slowly we walk to the bathroom. The room is full of warm comforting steam now and it takes no encouragement at all to get him under the hot water. I lower him carefully to his knees and place myself on the floor behind him. From here I can clearly see the brands on his back. I slowly run my fingers over them as the water gently begins to wash off the blood and muck and sooth his battered body.

'I'm sorry.' He says to me and I accept his apology. If he wants to think I did this to him then let him. That suits me fine.

'You shouldn't have left and not told me.'

'I know. I'm sorry.'

'I know you are babes. You won't be doing that again will you?' I feel he is shaking and I carefully move my hands down his sides and over the nasty lumps and swellings along his ribs. 'I can make this feel a bit better for you.' I tell him and he sighs and one of his hands moves off the floor of the shower and he pushes his hair off his face. A sudden new lot of redness joins the water from his hair. I can see the split on the back of his head from that initial hit. I look at it but I don't touch.

My hands move to his hips and I pull his boxers out of the way.

It's strange you know. I don't want to hurt him.

I don't want to.

But I do anyway. I take him hard and fast and with no preparation.

You know though, that's OK. Really it's what he wants. He knows when I do this to him that he is the only thing on my mind and I am the only thing on his. If he didn't want it he wouldn't make those beautiful little noises would he? He wouldn't push back onto me demanding more. He wouldn't want my hands holding him I in place. Firmly against me. Sure more blood joins that we are washing off but that's not really a problem cos I heal him as I do this. I watch his spine dip and arch as his body reacts to what I'm doing to him and I wrap an arm around him and take him in my hand and we have fun…Hell yes we have fun….and I even have to admit to making my own contented little sounds as I lick and chew on his flesh and he squirms and I'm glad I waited. Really I am glad. This is nearly as good as the first time I ripped into his pretty little arse. Very nearly as good.

I eventually pull back from him and let him lie down in the warm water.

And I kneel down next to him under the warm shower water and lick and massage his sore bruised skin with my mouth and tongue and I decide there and then that no one will ever hurt him again. Not anyone.

That includes me.

Maybe.

* * *


	4. Chapter Down Stairs

Down Stairs

* * *

At first I thought it was another nightmare. I know I was sleeping. I know I was as comfortable as you can get under the circumstances, but my head was spinning and confused and my dreams seemed to be too.

I was restrained again. In this dream. I was tied to the bed by my hands, but I was covered over and warm. I tried to open my eyes to see where I was but it was one of those dreams where you can't quite do that. That was all there was to it really. Not a very exciting dream. Just odd. I don't know who would tie me up like this. I thought of Floyd but he's not here.

I don't think he is here.

I can't feel him next to me. I can't see him and right now I'm not able to smell anything. It's not a hard decision to just close my mind again and let it sleep.

Time went strangely.

I'm not sure what was happening to it. It went in funny jumps and starts. Sometimes Floyd would come to the room and help me up and take me to the bathroom. Walking hurt…it hurt so much, but he was careful. I'd never really known Floyd be like this before and in a way it bothered me. He felt different. Other times I seemed to be in this half drugged dream state.

'The doctor gave you something for the pain is all.'

Floyd told me.

I can't remember seeing a doctor though. I can't remember seeing anyone but Floyd.

Days? Maybe days went, I don't know. I always seemed to be awake when it was dark outside the windows. My wrists were getting sore though.

'Floyd – have you been restraining me?' I asked in the end.

'Only when I fuck you.' He replied.

And I don't know if he was being serious or not. I know he has had me. I can feel he has. I frown at him and ask what the pills are the doctor prescribed, but he walks away from me and keeps his back facing me. 'You don't trust me? After all this you still don't trust me?' and he turns to face now. 'I'm doing this all for you. I'm trying my best here Spencer to be a responsible citizen. I'm working hard to keep it going. It's not fucking easy you know to keep my temper when the kids are screaming and the parents are moaning. I work fucking hard and you still don't trust me?'

'I didn't say that.' I counter. 'I just wanted to know what I've been taking.'

But he turns and walks away. Leaving the door open and I close my eyes and curl up on my side and try to sleep again. Always trying to sleep.

It crosses my mind to get up off the bed and go out there and see exactly what is going on. He is right, I don't trust him and as I start to feel better and I can move easier my mistrust increases. I still spend too much time sleeping. I still am only awake at night time and I have deep bluish bruising around my wrists now.

I push myself up on the bed. I am alone again and it is night time. My head is foggy and confused but I know I am awake because I'm able to open my eyes and I can move properly. I sit for a while on the edge of the bed and just think about all that's been going on. I don't even have a clear idea anymore why I am actually here and although Floyd hasn't been hitting me I am sure the abuse has taken a new angle. I rub at my eyes and then at my temples trying to get my thoughts together and then slowly I stand. My first idea is to act as though nothing is wrong. Everything is normal. I need to make sure that he trusts me enough to leave me alone.

My intention is to get away. I need to get away from this place and try finish up healing alone. I can't do it if he is keeping me sedated and I'm sure now that is what he is doing. I can't not eat or drink anything, I have to just get him to trust me and that's not going to be easy. Firstly a coffee. A simple thing I will go to the kitchen and get a drink – and on the way I will check out the rest of this place.

Everything is dark. The lights are all out and I don't even know where the switches are. I move my hands slowly along the walls until I find one and I flick it on. I am standing in a long hallway with a few doors along the sides and a window at one end and a flight of downward stairs at the other. My eyes instinctively check the ceiling and I see the loft door. There is though, nothing out of place that I can see. Everything is very clean. To an obsessive point, but that is just Floyd. He cleans floors until his hands bleed sometimes. A bit OCD in that way. I walk slowly wearing only my boxers to the top of the stairs. I don't know what is down there really, or more to the point, who is down there. I turn quickly and go back to my room in search of some pants to put on. It is a pair of dark jeans I find first so I drag them on and then start again. I walk down towards the stairs and then just stand and listen. I can hear a dripping tap from down there somewhere but that's all. I still cant hear any evidence that Floyd is even at home. Could this be my chance to get away? I walk slowly and carefully down the steps into darkness. Again I move my hand along the wall in search of a switch.

I can smell bleach and other cleaning fluids and suddenly I worry that I am making a mess on his floor. I move quicker feeling for a switch with my fingers and finally find one.

I'm standing in a small hallway…I recognise where I am. Kitchen and the sound of dripping from one side and the small lounge the other. Still nothing wrong, but at least I know where the lights are down here. I make my way to the kitchen and flick the lights on as I go. I feel a lot more comfortable now the place is all lit up, but there is still no sign of Floyd.

I have a good idea where he is. He thinks I don't know. I know he goes to see rent boys or something for free from somewhere. I can smell it on him. He stinks of other men and of sweat and sex. I ignore it.

Really in a way I am lucky to have someone like Floyd.

Really I am fortunate to have someone who will do all this for me.

Really, do I want to escape from this? I am warm and fed and comfortable and he is keeping me safe.

And drugged.

And restrained.

But not now. Right now I am able to think straight and move around all right. He's not that bad is he?

I locate the coffee machine and fill it with what it needs filling with and get out a mug and put two spoonfuls of sugar in the bottom and then sit at the small kitchen table and wait. It's cold. I should have at least put a shirt on. The coldness is causing me not to be able to think straight.

I could…if I wanted to, just get up and leave now. I could go out there, in the dark….

What am I thinking?

What happened last time I went out there on my own?

What the hell am I doing?

I need to get back upstairs quickly.

So I stand to leave the kitchen again when the back door flies open and Floyd tumbles in the door dripping with blood and …. And stuff I'm not sure about.

'Fuck.'

He says as he stands looking at me.

'What the hell are you doing down here.'

I am sure he can see the way my eyes have widened. I am sure I can see a slight panic on his face.

'Get in the cellar now. Move it. Get out.' And he is running to me and before I can get out of his way he has grabbed my arm and is propelling me to a door which is against the wall between this room and the stairs. 'Spencer get out of here.' And he pulls the door open and is pushing me down into the darkness. He is still holding onto me though so when my feet slip and I let out a yelp he doesn't let me fall.

-o-o-o-

Sometimes my best intentions turn to shit.

I need to get Spencer out of the way and I know by the way he has been acting recently that he's not going to go quietly.

Also I have this horrible feeling that the pigs are on to me! Bastards. They were good for nothing shits. They deserved to die like that. Well not like that. I did have a bit of a temper on me when I talked to them and they did laugh at me and someone pushed. The sons of bitches needed to be shown who was in control.

It wasn't me! HAHA!

I lost all freaking control.

Beside the point.

Lesson to be learned here: Don't get high if you intend going on a killing frenzy.

No…that's not the lesson…

Lesson to be learned here part two; Don't get high if you _don't _want to go into a killing frenzy when explaining the facts of life and death and shit to some dumb arse.

I think that's the lesson. 'Shut up Spence.'

He's making a noise. He's saying something to me but my brain has over loaded on something grey and tickly that I stuffed up my nose and it wont listen to him now. I do however need him to shut up.

'Shut up.'

I try and it doesn't work I don't think.

Cant hear…

Someone is singing mmmbop at me.

Correction.

I'm singing mmmbop at Spence.

Why is it always that bleeding song? I don't even know it when I've not got ants in my brain.

Don't hurt him.

My new prime directive.

But he won't shut the fuck up.

Or is it me?

No…his mouth is still moving. I need to stop it moving.

Duct tape.

Across his face and sure he is fighting me off and stuff, but I'm not hurting him. That blood. You see all that blood? That's not from him. That's not from Spence.

'I did this for you.' I tell him, but he is trying to pull the tape off and when I slap his hands he punches me! A fist in my damned mouth and I can tell you that young Spence here is growing up. He's not the skinny kid I fell in love with.

I didn't fall in love with him. I'm thinking shit again. He's not the skinny kid I thought I'd want to screw forever. He's got muscles. I don't much like it. He's bigger than me now. Before I know it he'll be screwing me and I'm not gonna let it happen.

Oh…he is on his face I've got his hands behind his back and I'm tying him tight with wire. He wont get out of that. I ruffle the back of his head. 'It's OK babes. I just need you to keep quiet. Oh, hit me again and I'll break your neck.' I grab him by the ankles and drag him over to the central pillar in the cellar. I'm in a good mood. After all the only thing he did was leave the room and come down for a coffee. Not really against the law is it?

I push him so he is facing the pillar and then grab his feet one either side and tape his ankles together and the bugger is struggling again and trying to get the thing off his face again and that makes me so bloody mad!

I really truly I am not going to hurt him. 'I won't hurt you. Give me your hands.'

He is doing a face at me, but I don't know if it confused or happy or what the fuck it is it doesn't make sense to me at all. I grab at his hands and with a pair of wire cutters I remove the thing I had tied around his wrists. He is making strange muffled noises and wriggling like mad but he cant get away. There is blood and I'm uncertain if it is from me or Spencer. I look at his hands and maybe I cut him by mistake. He is pulling them away from me again though and trying to get the thing off his face. 'Just do what I want Spencer.' I snap at him and pull his arms either side of the post the same as his legs are.

But the wriggling. The damned wriggling. 'Stop it!' I use a raised voice and pull at his arms hard and then I pull again and he stops struggling against me. That's good. I'll give him something nice for this. I quickly tape his wrists together again. I have to use tons of the damned tape cos of the blood coming from cuts on his wrists. I end up taping half way up his arms and around the pillar and back again. 'Now try and move!'

Not sure…really not sure why I am so angry with him… I sniff and rub at my nose and look at him. He has gone floppy and there is blood running out of his nose and over the tape across his mouth. My main concern now is that it will loosen the tape. So I add more. I add lots more. I tape his head to the pillar. I wrap it around his torso and hold him there in place and then check that he can breathe.

Bubbles of blood are coming out of his nose and his eyes are closed. But he seems to be breathing OK.

I think.

I wonder how he got hurt on the face like that, but no time now to try to figure it all out. I grab a big blue tarpaulin and throw it over him. 'I'll be back when it's sorted. Don't call out. Don't you go anywhere.' I pat him through the plastic cover and leave via the steps going up. I turn off the light and close the door and I'm in the kitchen back to the door taking deep breaths.

Safe.

For now.

I have to get rid of the bloodied clothes I am in, but I need to do something else first. I cant think straight. I have to get my brain working properly or I will get sloppy. I sit at the kitchen table with my back to the door going down to where Spencer is sleeping (?) and pull a twist out of my pocket. Just one snort should clear it. Just one will sort me out. Just the one.

One big….snort

One….just ….. that's all.

Just so I can think.

And I lie my head on the table and do that. I think and I think and I think and the clothes are getting stiff and dry on me and things are screaming in my head and I think I've started singing again and so I lie down on the floor and look up at rainbows and butterflies and I can taste strawberry candy and peppermint drops and glaced eyeballs….and Spence.

A rush of cold air.

A lot of shouting.

Hands are pulling at me, but I'm not ready to go just yet. Not yet.

I scratch and I bite and I rip and tear and I shout abuse and obscenities at the hands, but I still cant think. The powder either didn't work, or it's gone wrong. My legs wont work.

My fingers are numb.

The world is swirling in different colours.

And when I open my mouth to say 'fuck off you sons of bitches whore dogs.' I just drool and close my eyes and slip off into a deep darkness.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

_Mmmbop, ba duba dop  
Ba du bop, ba duba dop  
Ba du bop, ba duba dop  
Ba du  
Yeah  
Mmmbop, ba duba dop  
Ba du bop, Ba du dop  
Ba du bop, Ba du dop  
Ba du  
Yeah_

* * *

They had no idea what he had taken.

He was locked in a secure room and left.

They monitored him.

They observed.

He threw him self against the walls. He smashed and destroyed everything he could. Including him self it seemed. It was hard to tell where all the blood was coming from now, but most of it seemed to be from Flanders own face. There was blood splattered up the walls and on the ceiling and over the one way window. For a while he curled up in the corner and just rocked, but still they left him.

'He has a brother. Go and get his brother. He might know something. Oh and get his name put through records. I don't believe someone of his age hasn't done something like this before. He can't be a first time offender. I need to know everything.'

And so that was why the next few things happened as they did.

Hotch got a call. 'We have Flanders in custody.' A pause. 'His brother Spencer, yes, we are still looking for him.' A longer pause. 'Oh god. Yes Agent Hotchner we're on it now.'

A team of armed men entered the house via the back door again. Once more they swept through the small house and one again there was nothing. No sign that Reid had retuned. Nothing but the drip drip drip of a tap.

Half of the team were sent to check out the garages and outbuildings. The looks on their faces showed that they weren't looking for a person now. They were searching for remains.

Now they stood in front of the small door which looked lead into a cupboard under the stairs. It was the only place in this overly tidy and clean (except for the blood all over the floor and table.) that they hadn't searched.

The door was tugged open by its small brass handle and flashlights shone in. They were sure…almost certain that a body was going to fall out at them and when it didn't looks of mild relief crossed their faces. It was soon replaced with doubt though as the lights from the small flashlights showed them steps going down.

'Shit. How the hell did we keep missing this?' The officer said as his light flickered down into the deep darkness below. He made sure that his light was shining on the rough wooden steps and with the other three offers following they walked down into the darkness.

At first glance there didn't seem to be much down here. Piles of junk and boxes in one corner and a tool box in the middle of the floor not too far away from the central support pillar which seemed to have a pile of junk stacked around it covered by a tarpaulin. An empty cardboard tube which once had duct tape on it lay on the floor but there was no movement and no sound coming from down here. No one hiding in the shadows.

'Turn the damned light on someone. I can't see what we are looking at here.'

It was strip lighting which flickered on and off and on and off for a while before settling on staying on. Flashlights now put away it was easier to see in the new harsher and steady light. One of the first things they all noted was the blood.

'He was dripping in blood.' One of the officers reasoned. 'If he came down here then he would have dripped on the floor.' He was trying to convince him self that nothing untoward had happened here but all eyes were looking now at the tarpaulin.

At the smears of blood on it.

And so carefully they walked forward. Officer Hall bent down and grabbed a corner and then stood and pulled the cover back off from what it was concealing.

'Oh for the love of god.' He sighed at the image in front of him.

Someone and they were thinking it was probably this "brother" had been taped to the central pillar. They moved to him quickly and pulling pen knives from their pockets quickly started to remove some of the tape. One of them moved in to try to get a look at this face but there seemed to be far too much blood and the tape covered most of his face. Gently he peeled it away. He was trying to get to some bare flesh. Something he could check to see if this was a corpse of a live person.

'Christ, he did this to is own brother?' One of them muttered as they cut the last bit away holding him to the post. A cell phone was out. Medics were being called for and a pulse was being found.

'Hell, I think he's still alive.'

A sigh from another as the bindings around Reid's hands and arms were cut.

'He needs to see the electric chair for this, for this and for what he did to the boys.'

Nods of assent.

-o-o-o-

I didn't want to talk to the rest of the team about this yet. I needed to be sure it was Reid we were talking about here. Flanders could have picked up someone else with the same sort of looks. I could be anyone. It might be Spencer.

I looked out the window and down at the bullpen. Busy working on a case. Collating information gathered. I can't take time away now. I also cant ignore the fact that my youngest agent might still be alive. I don't want to raise hopes. I can't do that to them. I have to decide what to do and decide quickly.

A few buttons pressed and a few words said into the phone and Dave is walking through my door a few minutes later with a frown on his face.

'What's going on?' he asks me as he takes a seat on the other side of my desk. I just look at him for a while.

'I just got a phone call from a local PD up north.' I start. 'They picked up Flanders for something. He's been living up there for a while.' I watch Dave carefully.

'And you want to go up and make sure it's him?'

'Oh I know it's him. They told me what he's been picked up for. Only Flanders would do that.'

'I see.'

'No you don't. The thing is Dave, he's not been there alone. He has his younger brother with him.'

'He has a younger brother?'

I purse my lips and shake my head. 'Spencer. A brother called Spencer.'

'Ah.'

'I need to go and see for my self.'

'We are half way through a case Aaron. You can't just get up and go on the fancy that Flanders has Reid. It could be anyone.'

'And it could be Spencer. I can't not go. One day. Two at the most. I just need to find out if the person he was living with was Reid.' I stand up. 'He is missing Dave. I have to go. I have to confront Flanders.'

'And you want me to explain this to the team.'

'I don't want them to know where I am going. I don't want to raise hopes only to smash them again. As I said Dave, Spencer's body has never been found and the person Flanders has been living with not only fits his description but is now missing; again. I have to go.'

'I'll talk to Strauss but this isn't going to go down well Aaron.'

'He is still one of my agents. This is an ongoing case.'

'The case is closed Hotch.'

I walk to the door. 'Well consider it reopened. I'll be gone a few days.' I am aware that the time I'll be gone has increased but Dave stands and nods and says nothing.

'Go…I'll sort things out this end. Keep me informed.'

I turn and nod and then I am through the door and out of that place as fast as I can go.

-o-o-o-

I desperately need this to be Spencer. I am pacing the corridor of the hospital waiting to see to see someone. They won't let me in to see him. They have been told "No Visitors."

When I arrived at the precinct to talk to the officers involved my heart raced and sank. I want it so desperately to be Spencer. I need to get him away from Flanders if it is and now is the perfect time. They gave me a brief description of him again, but really it could be any young too skinny guy. It will be easy to check. His prints are on FBI records.

Finally!

I am taken to his room. A small room. 'He has no insurance.' I am told. 'We are just keeping him long enough so he can go home.' But their voices don't sound like they think that will be soon.

'I'll sort the medical fees.' And I will. I stand and look and all I can see is the back of his head, but I know it is Spencer. I need to see his face to be one hundred percent sure and then I will arrange that he is moved as far away from Flanders as I can get him.

'He doesn't want visitors.' I am told.

'I need to check it is who I think it is.'

They nod and let me go into the room. There is the bleeping and whispering of machinery they have hooked him up to just to keep an eye on him. I walk slowly around the end of the bed.

I know what had been done to him. I know what condition he was in when they found him. I know what Flanders did. I am half hoping I am wrong. It just hurts too much to think that was happening and we, no, I let it. I gave up. I let Flanders take him and drug him and beat and torture him. I am now standing facing him. He is sleeping, but I'd know that face anywhere. I'd know that face in the dark with my eyes closed. Even beaten and bruised as he is he is still beautiful. I want to reach out and touch him, just to make sure, but the doctor is with me. I can't. I don't feel free to do that.

How long am I just staring at his face for? I don't know, but eventually the eyes flicker open and he blinks and looks at me in the eye. I see him lick his split sore lips and suck in on the bottom one. I watch a pale shaking hand appear from under the covers and wipe a stray bit of hair off his face.

'Leave me alone.' His voice is croaky and low.

'I need to know what happened Spencer.' I sit in the chair next to the bed.

'I don't want to talk to anyone except Floyd. Just go away and leave me alone.'

'We had a memorial for you Reid. They thought you were dead.'

'I am. Now go and forget you ever saw me. Just go. I said I didn't want visitors.'

'You are covered in bruises. He's been beating you.'

'No. He has been protecting me. Someone else beat me. Please, Aaron, go, I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to talk to anyone. Just leave me.'

'Spencer, he taped you to the pillar in the cellar. That isn't protection.'

'He makes mistakes.' His eyes look over at the doctor now. 'Please. I need to sleep. Make him leave.'

'I need you to file charges.'

'No. Just leave and don't come back.'

I stand up again and Spencer closes his eyes. I will come back. I need to talk to Flanders first and try to work out exactly what went on. What went wrong and what the hold is he still has over him.

-o-o-o-

They let me see the security footage first. I needed to see what kind of a state he was in when they picked him up. I'd seen him angry before. I'd seen him having fits of rage. I'd seen the violence but I still wasn't prepared for this. It looked like he had completely lost his mind. Most of it was the same. Shouting unknown words at unseen people. Throwing him self around the small room. He was hitting the walls with such force I didn't know how he wasn't breaking bones.

The sound his head and body was making as it collided with the walls and floor was horrendous.

'How is he still awake?' someone watching over my shoulder asked.

I didn't answer. I also didn't know if I was going to be able to talk to him if he was in such a state. 'What is he doing now?' I enquired. The officer walked away to find out and returned about two minutes later.

'He's just sitting rocking, but he does that before he sets off again. It probably won't last long.'

I nod. 'I'll go and talk to him.' But I'm not going in armed and I'm not going in with out a flak jacket. I roll my sleeves up on my shirt too. Not because it will do anything or because I am hot, the only reason being that it shows him I am relaxed.

They let me in the room and stay outside armed and ready to leap into action. I give them strict instructions not to enter unless I call out for them to. I just hope I won't need to. Flanders is sitting in the corner of the room with his knees bent up tight and his arms wrapped around his legs. He's at some point removed his shirt but his jeans are still in place. He is bare foot and his forehead is resting on his knees.

'Floyd.'

I don't get too close yet. I need to see how he will react to my voice.

-o-o-o-

I knew it was him before he spoke. Before I looked at him I knew it was him. I can hear his voice but the words make no sense. Nothing makes much sense. I look up at him and see him standing a million miles away down a long tunnel. His mouth is moving, but the words are drowned out by my singing again. Quiet singing. Just in my head. I think it's just in my head. I swipe at the butterflies and look over at him again. I can feel I am licking my lips and chewing on the soft bit of skin on the inside of my mouth. When he touches me it makes me jump. I don't know how he got here so quickly.

'Floyd, are you listening to me?'

I hear the words. I actually understand them, but I don't know quite how to answer. I rub at my eyes and look at the hand on my leg.

'Do you know what happened?'

I frown.

'When?'

'Let us start with the three men you killed. Can you remember why that happened?' He wants to know if I was provoked…if they attacked me…if I went looking for them…I need to give a few answers.

'I promised Spence. I never go back on a promise Aaron.'

'What was the promise?'

I don't want to tell him. I've had it. I don't want to say anymore. A strange buzzing starts in my head and Hotchner slides back down to the end of the tunnel.

'I only did it for Spencer!' I shout at him. I don't know if he can hear me he is so far away. 'I was trying to protect him. The fuckers – they hurt him. Have you seen what they did to him? They kicked him until he couldn't move. I had to carry him home. I only did it because they – because they hurt Spencer!' I stand and the buzzing is louder now and I know that the only way to shut it up is to get to the brain but I can't reach it and then I have a sudden plan.

'Hotchner!' I put my hand out to him. To see if I can reach him. 'You need to help me.' But he is backing away from me. 'You have to help me so I can get back to Spencer.'

He is saying something to me again but the buzzing is too loud.

'I need my blow. I need my stuff to clear my head. Get me my stuff Hotchner so I can hear you.' I reach out for him again. This can go one of two ways and either will do right now. He is shaking his head and frowning at me as I keep walking forward. 'Just this one last time. Just help me one more time. Then I'll go. I'll be gone. I'll never come back. I'll give him up and leave, but you have to help me one last time.' And my fingers brush his arm.

'You are going no where but to death row Flanders.' He says…so smug. So fucking smug. In that voice he uses at scum. The voice he uses to belittle people. The voice he uses when he thinks he is in control.

He knows nothing.

I grab him with both hands now. And I am shouting at him. I am telling him what I want to do to him. In detail. I thought it sounded good. I would have enjoyed it but he is shouting something as he falls backwards onto the floor and I am tearing at his clothes and smelling that sweet Hotchner scent and I want him. I want him badly and I know he wants me too so I'm not sure why he is trying to defend and push me away. I can feel he wants me.

That sweet taste of his blood in my mouth…I can feel it bubbling around my lips and though hands are trying to pull me off and something is hitting me hard from behind I'm on him. I have him. I have him in my hand and I know he will want me. Just give me the chance. Just get these creatures out of my head and let me….do….what it was….

I wanted to do.

I can't move.

I can't see.

BUT

the buzzing in my brain has finally stopped and I think I will go to sleep now.

* * *


	6. Chapter 6 Doped

Doped

* * *

I'm at home.

But it is too quiet and empty now that Floyd has gone.

I've not been down to the cellar.

I go upstairs to shower alone.

I sleep on the couch.

At first they hammered on the door.

And I let them in.

At first.

But some came with abuse and hurtful words so I shut up again. I didn't want to give them all of the candy Floyd had made anyway. It was all I had left of him. I didn't want to give it all away to kids.

Sometimes they still do rattle the door and hammer for a while. I never answer them.

I lie on the couch most of the time. Staring at the walls and thinking. Thinking how it all went wrong and if it was ever right in the first place. I have a pot of things on the small table in front of the couch. Just within reach. The strawberry ones. He liked those the best. He liked to taste of strawberries and when I pop one in my mouth and the flavours flood out it brings a stinging watery feeling to my eyes.

Feeling like this forever isn't possible.

But I know I am grieving. He's not dead. They tell me he's not dead. They tell me also that I'm not allowed to visit him, but he is all I want. All I've ever craved…and I can't have him.

I pleaded with Hotch. I was virtually on my knees begging him to let me see him, but he stayed firm and the answer is constantly "no".

Hammering on the door.

It must be morning. The kids after candy again, but I'm not moving today. I already decided that I wouldn't move. Not today. Maybe not tomorrow. Perhaps never.

Slowly I roll over onto my back and as I do so I grab a graphic novel off the floor and place it on my chest. I stay like that for about five minutes before I lift it to my face and inhale. I know this is going to sound stupid. I know you will think I've lost the plot, but it smells of Floyd. I can smell his sweat on it. His pheromones. Him. I bend my knees up and roll back onto my side facing the back of the couch and I howl silently in pain.

I don't know how long I've been here for. When I open my eyes I see I have moved and I now have my back to the couch. My eyes are sore and dry and I'm cold. Very cold. I reach out and put a strawberry candy in my mouth and wonder what woke me up. I am thinking it was just because I am so cold when I hear it.

A gentle rapping at the door. The back door. I want to ignore it and curl up harder against the world but it is insistent and getting louder. I slide off the couch and realise that I'm not finding walking very easy. Actually I'm not finding standing very easy either.

'I'm coming. Hang on!' I call out and dribble a bit of sugary strawberry syrup down my chin. I have to use the couch to get to my feet as I stumble forwards almost falling, but managing to catch hold of the wall and just stand and lean on it. My heart is pounding as I wipe my chin clean and take some deep breaths. I need now to get out of the door and across the hall and into the kitchen. The very thought of it seems ridiculous. I have no idea how I will manage it with this head spinning and these legs not wanting to move.

I hug the wall. I walk carefully and slowly. Step by step getting closer to the open door. It doesn't feel cold now. I feel stupidly hot. There is sweat running down the sides of my face and I can feel my shirt is stuck to my back. I am leaning on the door frame now looking across the darkened hallway towards the light coming from the kitchen. Not a bright light but one Floyd installed so it would never be totally dark. I wipe my hand over my brow and lurch forwards.

Nearly there. So nearly there when I am on my knees again. The knocking on the door starts again and I want to scream at them to just go away and leave me alone. I want to be alone.

I have to show I can cope. I have to show I am dealing with this. I have to get up and answer the door. Again I pull myself up. This time I use the door jam for the kitchen. Very nearly there. Very close now. I can use the kitchen counters to lean on and help me walk. My legs feel so weak. I'm not sure why. I grab for the door lock and flick back the catch and push the back door open.

-o-o-o-

He almost falls into my arms. Actually if I'd not been there to catch him he would have fallen into the back yard. I can feel how thin he is. I can smell the sickness on him as he pushes me away and tries to regain his balance and some composure. His hair is slick with sweat. He smells of sweet sweat and dirt and I have seen him thin in the past, but never to this extent. He has dropped beyond the "fragile" look to the "deathly ill" look. I can see he doesn't want me there. I can see he is trying to get his mouth to say what his brain is trying to but he doesn't. He remains silent and in one staggered lumbering step throws himself down onto a kitchen chair.

I still say nothing. I pull the door closed behind me and I sit on the other chair and turn to face him.

'I just came to see how you are doing.'

He doesn't say anything.

'If there is anything you need.'

Still silence.

'I'm not here to interfere, Spencer. I just want to help you.'

'Help me? How on earth could you help me? I've lost everything Hotch. Everything I wanted and loved and needed. The thing that kept me going and gave me a reason to be. It's gone.'

I lean forward to place a hand over his. 'Come back with me. Not forever. I know you want to stay here, but just for a while. Let me care for you Spencer.'

'I can look after myself.' He is looking down at the hand I have placed over his, but he's not moved it.

'I know. I know you can but I am still offering. Let me help you. Just for a week or so. Have company. Someone to talk to, even if it is just for a short while.'

'And why would I choose you to talk to Hotch?'

Still he hasn't moved his hand from under mine and as I squeeze it gently he turns his hand over and holds my hand back.

'Because I am offering to help you Reid. I didn't come up here to arrest Floyd. You need to know that. I came up here to find you. Floyd was already arrested and in deep trouble. I had no part in that. I tried talking to him. He – he – well…he didn't want to communicate with me. I tried.'

My words feel so empty and hollow that I'm sure there must be an echo. Now he pulls his hand away from me and tucks it on his lap under the table. 'I'm fine. I don't need help from anyone. I'm not a child Hotch. I can cope alone.'

I nod. I need him desperately to come back with me, but I don't want to pressure him into it. I want it to be his own decision. 'Is it alright if I stay the night?' I ask. I'm looking around the kitchen now. It doesn't look like it gets used very often.

'The bedrooms are up the stairs. I'm sure you know that. The second door on the left is a guest room. There are towels in the bathroom. I expect.' I watch now as he stands. He is shaking but still I say nothing to him about his general condition or my need to help him. I stand too.

'Thank you.' I say as he turns and starts to move away. He doesn't get far and from here and it was kind of graceful. Firstly to his knees and then the rest of him followed. He made no sound and he didn't move. I am at his side instantly and putting my hand on his very bony shoulder. 'Reid. You are either coming home with me or I'm taking you back to the hospital. You decide. I can't leave you here.'

I can see the way he is looking at me. He hates me. I am sure of it, but I wouldn't leave a dog behind in this condition. I certainly wouldn't leave Spencer.

-o-o-o-

I am far from happy when Aaron calls me. 'I don't think the boy will react well to that.' I tell him, but I'm willing to try. For Hotch and for Spencer. 'Just for a couple of days though. I don't want him here for long.' I listen to the reply and I'm nodding, though he wouldn't know that. 'Well the others will have to know. I'll tell them. You just sort out what needs to be done your end.' I listen to Aaron for a bit longer. 'I'll call you if it need.' And I flick my phone shut.

Sam is not going to like this. The only thing in my favour is I can take the lad hunting with me. It's the weekend. It might quell the anger the boy will feel when I tell him what is going on. With a sigh I look around my office. I need to go to the school and collect him and take him back to my place. I also have to tell the team that Dr Reid has been located. Neither task ones I am looking forward to. Hotch owes me. I am mentally ticking the boxes here.

-o-o-o-

Dave didn't contact me. I'm glad. Maybe he and Sam would get along. Who knows? I definitely have a love/hate relationship with the boy. Though deep down I think on both sides a bit of respect is building up slowly. I just don't know how to tell Spencer about it. He was sleeping for nearly the whole journey home. I stopped off a few times to get coffee and something to eat and still he slept. I didn't wake him. He looked so peaceful. There were the occasional moan and swipes with his hands in response to something he was dreaming, but no dreadful nightmares. I was just grateful for that. It was a start. I don't know if it was a good start though.

'We are here.' I put my hand on his arm to awaken him. 'Spencer.' I talk softly. I don't want to alarm him. I watch at beautiful face as his eyes slowly open and the relaxed look on his face turns to a frown.

'I shouldn't be here.'

Now the frown looks like worry.

'It's fine. Just for a short stop over. To relax. You can still lie on the couch all day. You don't have to do anything. I just want to be there for when you do.'

A slow nod and he is unclipping his safety harness and sitting up. 'You will take me back when I ask?'

I smile at him. 'You're not a prisoner Spencer. You are free to come and go as you please. I just want to see you well enough to be able to go home.' That obviously is only half the truth. I never want him to go back to that cold empty shop full of memories of pain and Flanders, but as said, I can't keep him here.

I show him to his room. The guest room has en suite. I provide him soft white towels and tell him to make himself at home. I am hoping that will mean he will shower. Not my place to tell him to. He is a grown man. He needs to be helped to his room. I keep asking when he last ate something…but he doesn't answer me. I hold him tightly to me and again I can smell that sickly smell coming off him, but under that, under the sweat and pain he is feeling I can still smell Spencer. I can still feel him and hold him as I help him up the stairs and I know I've not lost him yet. He flops down on the bed and immediately he curls up and hugs himself.

'I'll leave you for a while. I'm putting some soup on. I'll bring you a bowl.'

I don't wait for an answer. I don't expect one. I leave him to sleep.

-o-o-o-

When I wake up I'm not sure where I am at first. The room is unfamiliar but not the smells. I know the smell. I am at Hotchner's. Not sure how I got here but it is warm and there is no hammering on the door and demands for candy. I push up onto my elbows and look around for some strawberry stuff in a jar, but there doesn't seem to be any. I will ask where it is when I see Aaron. The door to the bathroom is open and so slowly with that as my focus I slide off the bed. Still I am having a problem getting and staying on my feet, but I'm not going to let this happen to me. I use the bed to push up and stand.

The door is probably five miles or so away. or at least it may as well be. I really don't know if I'm going to be able to make it all that way and I'm sure I won't make it to the shower. I need to try though.

I feel drugged.

I feel as though I have spent my last year doped up and now I am finally coming down. I would imagine this is how it feels. I want to crawl back to where I have been and away from the pain I am beginning to feel inside. A dreadful pain of loss and abandonment and fear. If I can only make it to the bathroom, then it would be a start. Floyd would have helped me. Floyd would have been here for me. He would have made sure I got there without falling.

I stagger my way to the door and now I cling onto the edge of the door frame. I have a quick check for things before I go further…there is a bathrobe on a hook on the wall and a pile of towels. Apple shampoo is on a small shelf in the shower unit. I allow myself the comfort of sitting while I strip off. I know I must stink. I feel dirty and sticky but it's so hard to think.

Getting back to my feet is a struggle. There just seems to be no strength left in me. I almost give up and crawl back to the bed and curl up and go back to sleep, but I do really I do need to be clean. Floyd would be pleased with me. He would like it if I make the effort to at least get wet once in a while.

Slowly I make my way to the shower. I lean on the wall and turn on the water and wait for a short while before stepping under it. I can feel the splashes on my bare skin.

It happened fast.

So fast I couldn't even put out my hands to hold onto something.

A scream so loud that my nose exploded with blood and something wet burst from my ears. I am going down. There is nothing I can do to prevent it…I feel my head smash against the white tiles…….

Darkness.

-o-o-o-

First I am too cold.

Then too fucking hot.

Never just right.

I screamed at them for days to get it right, but they did something to me to shut me up. Needle after needle in my arms and legs and arse. Taking blood out and putting chemicals in.

I wanted to, for a while fuck anything that came near me. I thought I would explode I was so horny. Then they gave me something. It's in a drip thing attached to my arm and I can't get it out, but it stopped me wanted to screw. It stopped me screaming at them to get on me. I fucking begged them the sit on me but they bloody ignored me.

People came to visit.

No, I have no bloody idea who they were. Just bleeding people. Talking at me and asking me questions but I didn't know what they were talking about.

'I need my stuff.'

I told them this over and over a fucking gain! But never once did they listen, so why do I talk to them? Fuck me…I didn't talk to them…and they didn't fuck me…we both missed out on something I guess.

I am strapped down.

Lying on my back with things around my arms and across my chest and around my legs and holding my feet I place. I have a thing keeping my head still. Almost like a cage. It stops me moving my head to the side. They said they'd remove my teeth if I kept trying to bite people.

I explained to them slowly and loudly and as clearly as I could 'I don't want to bite them. I want to fucking eat them.' Not long after this the cage thing was put on and the chemicals in my arm.

It hurts.

Fuck it hurts.

I thought my genitals were on fire for a while. I definitely don't want to stuff anyone right now. Damn them all to hades. Damn them all.

'I did it for Spencer.'

I tell them this.

'I did it. I promised him. You can't keep me here. He'll need me.'

I told them this a lot at first.

'He will need me.'

But my mind is getting foggy. Each day more fog to fight my way through and all I can do is stay here and look at the ceiling.

'This is against the law. You can't keep me here restrained like this.'

I'm sure of it.

'Who are you going to complain to Flanders?'

They reply and I'm not sure, but there has to be someone. Someone out there has to know what they are doing to me here.

'You've not charged me with anything. You have to let me go.'

I tell them this too and they say this back to me. 'If and it is a big "if" we considered you fit to leave this establishment it would mean you are fit for trial and death row is there awaiting that time. Your name is already above the door, Flanders. Until then you will stay here and we will do to you what we please because either way you are never going to see day light again. Either way no one asks about you. Either way you are dead within the year. Make the most of it. Be grateful.'

So that sort of told me that I have to be careful of these guys. I have to stay calm. I have to metabolise these damned chemicals…some of them…there are so many in my system I'm finding it hard to cope.

Another nose bleed. I want to tip my head back and let it run down the back of my throat, but I can't move. It's wasted. My blood is wasted as it trickles out and down the side of my face. What a damned waste of good red blood.

I need to see him.

I need to be with him.

I need to smell him and touch him and taste him in my mouth. Feel him tasting me. I need him so damned bad.

Slowly I suck the chemicals away.

Gradually the fog lessens.

I don't know how long it's been, but I try anyway and there is nothing there. Spencer has gone.

I try again. A void where he used to be. A nothing. A huge empty space that makes me want to scream. But I can't. I don't want them to know I am doing this. I need them to think they have me. I need to comply and trick and fool them and every day I call out to him a bit louder in my head.

Finally he is there. Something is wrong though. He feels drugged and ill.

Damnit, I have to get to him. I have to make things right. I have to sort this mess out and explain to people, but they won't listen to me. They don't understand.

It wasn't me.

Someone got there first.

I'm sure of it.

I wouldn't have been so sloppy.

'Spencer!'

He is there.

I can feel he is there.

I know he can hear me.

'Spencer! Tell them it wasn't me babes. Explain to them for me. They won't listen.'

Just tell them babes.

Tell them it couldn't have been me.

* * *


	7. Chapter 7 Candy

Candy

* * *

I heard the crash and was about to make my way up the stairs to see what had happened when the front door flew open and a demon hurtled into the house, closely followed by Dave.

'What the hell is going on?!' Sam is bellowing and his eyes are everywhere looking for something out of place. 'You've got someone here. Who is it?' And he is making his way towards the stairs.

'I'm sorry Aaron.' Dave looks sorry, but a bit relieved to not have this child as his responsibility anymore. I want to talk to Dave and find out what went wrong and why Sam is back here, but also need to stop him from going up stairs.

I grab his arm and pull him forcefully towards me. 'Lounge.' I tell him and give him a shove in the right direction. 'Dave? What happened? Is everything alright?' I know what sort of things Sam can do sometimes.

Dave frowns. 'I really am sorry, but that boy needs to be kept away from animals until he's been castrated.' He doesn't need to say more. I nod and give Rossi quick apologies and let him leave. 'I stopped him Hotch. But he would have done.'

I will have to talk to Sam about this subject now too, and I still want to know what the noise was from upstairs. I stand in the hallway and listen for a few moments. I can hear water running. He is having a shower.

Oh – oh yes I want to go and watch him. I really do want to do that, and maybe Sam being back is a good thing? It has at least stopped me this time. But...is just watching so bad?

I walk into the lounge and see that Sam has helped him self to some whiskey from the decanter. 'You know I don't like you drinking.' I tell him.

He turns to me and he looks so horribly like his father sometimes that my stomach knots. This is one of those times. A time when I find the line between Sam being a child and Sam being Floyd really hard to take.

'You don't like me drinking? Who have you got upstairs? Why did you try to get rid of me for the weekend? And what the hell is the problem with Dave and his sodding dogs?'

-o-o-o-

Such a sweet sight it is. Bare wet skin. A bit of blood. No wonder Flanders can't keep his dirty hands off him.

That however is not much of a problem right now. This little darling is mine. Sam…a good distraction for me. I can hear him shouting. I can hear Hotchner's quieter voice. It really couldn't have worked out better for me. I lean in and turn off the water and at the same time I prod the prone form with my foot.

'Time to wake up Spencer.' I tell him and he moans and groans as I grab his arm and start to drag him from the wet. 'I want you. Get up.' I tell him, He's lost weight. Living on nothing but sugar and drugs will do that to a man. 'Come on now.' I say to him and hold out a strawberry candy for the dog. 'Plenty more where I got this from if you move your pretty ass and get over to the bed.'

Oh this is working well. He reaches for the sweet boiled sugar and takes it from between my fingers. He doesn't even question that I'm here. It doesn't seem to bother him.

I stand back and watch as he crawls his way back to the bedroom. His nose is bleeding and dripping on the beige carpet. So sweet. It's all so sweet. I follow his slow progress and really I would have him there, but I've an image in my mind. I want him kneeling by the bed. A couple of hard and encouraging slaps on his pretty ass to keep him going but eventually he is at the bed.

'Just kneel…lean forward dog.'

And obviously he does. I trained him well.

-o-o-o-

'It was just a dog! Does it matter? It's not going to complain now is it?'

-o-o-o-

He smells so sweet. Sort of like sickness and blood and he enjoys it. I can tell. I can see his long fingers grabbing hold of the bedding.

-o-o-o-

'An arse is an arse Aaron! Why the hell is it wrong?'

-o-o-o-

The lovely moans and cries he makes as I take this well used ass and he pushes back demanding more – oh and I give it to him. I'm not even sure he realises it's me, but he is a slut a dirty little whore who can't get enough of it.

-o-o-o-

'You just don't like to think I know how to have fun do you? You won't let me fucking drink or fuck or smoke. It's like living in a fucking prison Aaron. I'm doing all you bloody ask me to. First time ever in my life I've thought about bloody school grades to keep you damned well happy and I get nothing back! I want to fuck something!'

-o-o-o-

The thought that I am doing this to Flanders' dog is almost too good. I hold his hips and pull him tighter and give him all I have as I bite down onto his back with my perfect sharp white teeth. I feel blood. I smell blood and now I can taste it. His body shakes and twitches under me as his groans increase and he gets more demanding. One of his hands has moved down and out of my sight now, but I can tell…yes I know…I fuck better than that rent boy druggy Floyd.

I'm done. Reid is breathing heavily kneeling and bleeding and wondrous. I'll be back for more, but I need to stop him communicating with Flanders.

'Here.' I say and place more candy at his full greedy lips. 'Suck on this.' I watch him lick his lips and then he takes it from me with his mouth. A whore's mouth. No doubts there. I place the big jar of sugar candy on the table next to the bed and then take one and put it in his hand. 'For later.' I tell him.

-o-o-o-

'And anyway – who have you got upstairs?' And Sam is running past me before I can stop him. I just hope Reid is out of the shower.

-o-o-o-

I move back into the shadows. I can hear the spawn hammering his dirty feet up the stairs. Time to go. I have a busy day ahead of me. A smile and a sigh…and I've gone.

-o-o-o-

'Great Scott and Lordy Lummickins!' A new form of language you learn hanging with geeks. I just stand and look at the sight in front of me. I feel Aaron's hand on my shoulder.

'Oh good god.' And he is pulling me out of the way and I let him, cos I'm so fucking amused if I move I might piss myself laughing.

-o-o-o-

'Reid.' I say quietly as I move towards him and then spin to look at Sam. 'Go downstairs and check the doors. Turn the security alarm on. Quickly.' I don't turn to see if he does what I've asked. I don't need him to do it. I just want him out of the way. How in hells name did this happen when I was in the house. I can see the window is shut, but I'm not sure if it's locked. The crashing sound. I don't know what caused it, but I can see the results clearly enough.

I put a hand on his back and he lets out a small sigh, but doesn't move. I need to cover him. I check now to see if Sam has gone. I've been trying to shield this from his eyes. Not because I don't want him to have to see it, but because I know he will get over excited and I can't deal with that right now. He has gone and so I get up and run to the bathroom. There is blood on the floor. Some bloody hand prints, it looked like he crawled from the bathroom, but I can see that is not where the abuse, if that is what this should be called, took place. I grab a towel and run back to him and cover his back.

'Spencer. You need to get up. I have to get you to the shower.' I watch his skinny back shuddering and I gently touch the places on his back where he has been bitten. I look at the scratch marks and bites and wonder how I didn't hear what was going on up here. I want to ask him who was here. How they got in and where the jar or candy came from. I know it can't be Floyd. I know it wasn't Sam. 'Spencer.' Now I take one of his arms and kneeling on the floor next to him I drag it over my shoulder. From here I can see the blood on his face. He has had a nose bleed, but there is also blood around the ear I can see and he has a huge swelling rising on his forehead where the skin is split. At least the bleeding there has stopped, That's a start. He is drooling and there is a strong smell of strawberry syrup. The same smell he had to him when I picked him up from the shop. There is a trail of pink drool coming from his mouth and soaking into the bedding. 'I need to clean you up.' I tell him.

I manage to get him to his feet, but he is wobbly and hangs onto me tightly for support. He is trying to say something but all of his words are muddled and make no sense at all. When I get him to the shower cubical I lower him down to kneel. I can see more blood. It is sprayed up the wall and has gathered around the outlet and a long smear of blood below a splatter where I imagine he hit his head. I sigh and remove the towel. I close and lock the bathroom door and turn on the water. I have on jeans and a dark blue Tshirt. The jeans stay on but I remove the top half and kneel down behind Reid with apple shower gel and a cloth in my hand.

'I don't want to hurt you.' I tell him and he moans slightly.

'It's ok.' He says and he is swaying gently under the water as I start to wash his skin clean.

'Do you remember what happened?' I can see him tense up slightly as I wash him.

'Every second.'

'Do you want to tell me what happened?'

A shake of the head. 'Use your imagination Hotch.'

I wash him and he feels so fragile and broken that I just want to take him and hold him and protect him from whatever is going on. For now I wash his hair and clear the filth off him. It's just the surface though. I grab ointment from the cabinet. I don't want to leave him like this when Sam is roaming the house. I can hear muffled smashing of crockery behind the closed doors. The kitchen I am supposing. Again. I apply the ointment where it is needed and turn off the water. Spencer doesn't move so I pull down another towel and place it over his back and gently begin to dry him.

'Why are you doing this for me?' He suddenly asks.

'Doing what?' I stop what I am doing and back off slightly.

'Putting up with me.'

'I want to help you Spencer. I want you well again.' I watch as he stays on his hands and knees in the shower cubical and starts shivering.

'I'm fine. I can cope on my own.'

I back right away from him now and lean on the bathroom door. 'You're fine? Get up then. Stand up and show me you are fine Spencer? You show me that you don't need help and I will leave you alone. Who was here? Who were you with?'

He moves around in the cubical and wraps the towel tightly around his waist and pulls him self up to stand. 'He brought me the candy.' he says as he staggers towards me. 'I want to sleep.'

-o-o-o-

I can hear the chaos going on outside. I have a damned good idea what is going on too and I'm not too much inclined to like it. I hear shouts. I hear gun fire. I hear screams. I hear the swish splat slice sound of a sword.

'Ah shit. All I need.' I pull at the bonds on my arms but it's pointless. The drugs have weakened me. The act of trying to metabolise them has weakened me further. I wasn't expecting visitors.

He bursts into the room with a smile on his face, flicking the blood from his sword and raising an eyebrow at me. 'Well well, I get to see you at last and you don't even get up to hug me. Floyd, I am offended.'

'What do you want?' I am not going to show my anger. I am going to keep in control here. There really is nothing I can do right now anyway. I will remain calm…

Count to ten Floyd. Don't let it bother you.

He is smiling. I don't fucking want him smiling at me! He has something planned. I have at least the peace of mind that whatever went on out there couldn't have been me. Not this time.

'Floyd. I just had your boyfriend.' And he leans over me and breathes on my face. 'Can you smell his sweat on me?' He moves back and wipes his hand under my nose. 'Can you smell his ass on me Floyd? I'm sure the drugs haven't deadened your senses that much have they?'

I can smell Spencer. I can smell his sweet smell, but I'm not going to let this show.

Stay calm. Stay with it Floyd.

He's trying to make you lose control.

One…

Deep breaths…

Ah shit…I can't get beyond one. What fucking good are numbers when I can't think? 'What did you do?' Ah for the love of the gods of Pluto, did I really just ask that?

'You want to know? Details?'

I want to shake my head but this contraption is holding it in place. 'Get me off here and let me fucking kill you, you stupid Nip!'

And to my surprise he begins to undo the bindings keeping me in place. 'On the understanding that it's a fair fight.' He tells me. 'Not that it can possibly be fair now.' He places his fingers to his mouth and licks at them. 'He does taste so good though. It's been fun destroying you Flanders. I promise to continue fucking Spencer in your memory.'

I shouldn't talk to him cos I am going to say something stupid so I keep my mouth shut. I bit down on the inside of my mouth until I taste blood. I will kill him. He has under estimated me. They always do. They always will do.

I feel his hands unbolting my head from the frame and I watch as he stands back out of the way. 'Get up then.' He tells me. But – right – this is where things start to go wrong. The meds they have been pumping into me for so long seem to have had an effect on my mobility and so when he grabs me by my hair and drags me off the bench thing I've been living on for I don't know how long I just fall in a heap on the floor.

NOT

The effect I was after. The drips and tubes and things taking fluids out of my body are ripped unceremoniously from their homes and it causes just the slightest of howls of rage from me.

'You fucking bastard!'

I try to pull myself up onto the edge of the bed but he still has my hair and is dragging me out of the room towards where all the noise had previously come from.

'Get the fuck off me Taki!' I shout at him but the bastard's not listening to me now…he's whistling something. 'That's my song you tit! Get your own damned theme song!' I'm sliding on something wet and sticky and very blood like and I twist and pull at his hands but the guy has a tight grip on me and I've not been able to move my arms or legs in a while…and actually this whole movement and dragging thing is making me feel more than a little bit queasy and now with the added smell of blood and other deathly bodily fluids I can feel bile rising. 'Let go of me Taki.' I hiss at him and amazingly enough he does.

My heart is thumping fit to explode and I really do want to kill the son of a bitch.

'Can you see this mess?' He asks me and so I give it a quick glance.

'I can see it.'

'Good. Remember it. You will get the blame.'

'Like fuck I will, I was strapped to the bed.'

'But you're not now are you Floyd? You are here lying in the filthy mess you made when they released you.'

'Ah very amusing.' I know security cameras would have picked up this whole thing. I know they won't blame me for this.

He grabs one of the dead guys and pulls him closer to me. It looks like his neck is broken. 'Floyd – you will get the blame for this, but I need you to enjoy it. After all you didn't actually get the pleasure of being here when it was done did you? So I'll talk you through it. Slowly.'

And as he talks he is unbuttoning my shirt. His dirty slut fingers are touching my skin and I would kill him, really I would kill him but I can't move. I lie there like a freaking moron and listen to his story and once my buttons are undone I feel his hands touching my stomach.

It didn't hurt.

What he did.

It didn't actually hurt.

But I guess I still have meds in my blood and there is shock and stuff. I think it will hurt later though. The knife goes quite deep and it slices smoothly upwards until it reaches bone. He then crouches down next to me and he tells me in very fine detail what he did to my Spencer and when the alarm bells finally start ringing and he stands up and moves away then it starts to hurt and I want to put my hands over me and hold my guts in, but all I do is lie there and scream.

* * *


	8. Chapter 8 School

**School**

**A/N: Very short little chapter. Just a fill in…something I fancied doing. Pb xox**

* * *

8am:

I'm on time. Aaron drops me off so I don't really have an option. I wanted to wear my black leather coat but he gave me that look so I didn't bother arguing with him. He's told me it gives the wrong impression. I'm not trying to impress anyone.

I have a cult following.

Not my fault.

All the girls want to hang with me.

All the little fag boys think I'm wonderful.

That's OK with me.

Today.

Black Tshirt and dungarees and my boots. You know, the first day here they called me names. They laughed at the way I dress. They soon shut up. Didn't really take long for them to understand that you don't do that. They know that the guy who looks after me is FBI. They know not to mess with me cos they really don't want daddy Hotchner coming down on their arses.

So right eight in the morning and I'm making my way to my locker. Almost there before I get pulled over by the science bloke. Have I done my assignment? I am late handing it in.

'No I've not done it. I am so sorry. But my FBI guardian sent me away for the weekend and when I got back some bloke had been raped in the spare bedroom. As you can imagine it was a bit of a fiasco. I will get him to write a letter.'

He didn't ask more of me. He never knows when I'm telling the truth of if it's an outright lie and the funny thing is that life at Hotchner's is so screwed that I don't have to make up stories.

'Hey Sam.' And a hand on my shoulder. An older kid than me and one who would like to rule the roost, but he's a stupid fucker and cant work out how to tie his own shoelaces let alone run a drugs ring. 'I got what you wanted.' Oh. Maybe the drugs thing he can handle.

'Not here stupid.' I tell him. 'Men's room in five. See you there.' I'll have to pay him, but that's ok. I check my pockets for mints and gum. I'll be fine.

S

So locker. I need my books for the first period which is math. Fooooking hate it I do, but Aaron said I cant get out of it. I haveta do it.

I told Drew five minutes so I'll be quick. He'll be quicker. He always is. Gagging for it. For me.

So he hands me the pack and I slip it into my back pocket and Drew has his pants open ready.

'I don't have long.' I tell him. I always tell him that, but his hand is on the top of my head now pushing me down to make my payment.

Less than three minutes later I am sucking a mint to get the vile taste of Drew Alberhurst out of my mouth and walking into math almost on time. Tutor looks at the clock and looks at me and says nothing.

Nine.

Free period.

Men's room again. Only this time with Frankie Swift and it's a different sort of payment. I hand over the drugs and at last I get some arse.

Quarter past nine and the principle and some guys from school security are dragging me screaming abuse down to the office.

'You can't do this to me!' I am telling them.

'Yes we can.' They tell me.

Frankie is crying and telling all sorts of bloody untruths and I get to him long enough to flatten his faggot nose against his face and lift the drugs from his pocket. Why is it always me who gets into trouble?

Ten:

Aaron arrives.

He has his pissed off face on so I might as well make it worth his while.

'I don't want to come to this bloody school!' I'm shouting at him. 'It's corrupting me.' And I think he nearly chokes as he tries to talk to me.

'Get out. Get in the car.' He says to me. 'I will contact you.' He says to the principle.

'He was having anal sex with another student. I really don't think we have a place for Sam here.'

'As I said.' Snarky voice Aaron. 'I will contact you.'

I'm lucky he's looking after me. My dad would have killed me for pulling a stunt like that, but Aaron just drives with white knuckles and is that disappointment on his face?

Damn I need a drink.

At least I have something to snort later.

* * *


	9. Chapter 9 Blades

Blades.

* * *

The alarm.

It took the guards a while to get through the doors. No one was unlocking from the other side. Security cameras were not operational. They had no idea what was going on. Usually – what would normally happen, as this was high security area, they would deliver passwords back and forth and say secret words, and punch in things on the computer and even show hand signals that all was normal.

All was very far from normal.

The big iron door stood firmly shut as the guys with Kevlar and big guns stood and awaited the opening. Ten minutes, which is a long time when you don't know what is going on, a full ten minutes, nearly eleven had passed before the doors opened.

'Oh shit.' The lead man said and he didn't move. The others stood behind him and looked over his shoulder at the mess. The smell was almost over powering. The lead, a guy called "Hampton" wiped the back of his hand across his nose and mouth as the bile rose and threatened to explode from his gut.

'Don't touch anything.' He said. 'Unless….' His words trailed off. 'Just be careful. Someone did this and that someone is still in here.' And they moved forward.

-o-o-o-

I heard the sound of the door opening and I felt the rush of foul air over my face. I felt the fresh clean air slowly in its wake crawling over my skin. Again I try to move my hands, my arms, anything, to try to work out what damage was done to me. I am guessing I'm going to have a crap time. I try to wiggle my toes, but it wont work. They wont work…I wont work. I cant even lick my lips. I just lie here and stare at the ceiling and if I try real hard I can even see right near me that there is blood sprayed across it. Arterial spray. And you know what the bitch is? I missed it all. I think I can hear murmured voices and the rattle of weapons. It's hard to tell. My heart is pounding so hard and the sound is filling my ears. I think…I have a feeling, or as it the case, no feeling, that my brain has cut out the pain. Either that or I'm not hurt, though I know I am. I seem to be confusing myself. I want my brain to be quiet. That part of my brain anyway and let me try to sort this out.

Clang clang clang and they are getting closer to me. I really could do with some help here you know. Hello you arseholes – over here. That Taki bastard has really done a number on me and as a result he will die. I will stay here right now and think up interesting ways to destroy him. He'd been with Spencer. I need to know more about that too…

Ah..

Someone is looking down at me.

'This one's an inmate.' He looks over his shoulder and calls out and then he looks back at me, so I blink at him. About all I can manage but it has the desired effect. 'A live one! He's still with us! Get the medics here now.'

Another face.

'Son of a bitch. It's Flanders isn't it?' I try to smile at him, but it doesn't really work very well. I cough though. I cough a lot. I spray everyone around me in blood.

Then

I didn't pass out exactly. I just shut down for a while.

-o-o-o-

'I don't need a nursemaid.' I feel irritable and snappy. I reach over and grab something nice and strawberry flavoured. 'Take Sam to school. Go to work. Do what you normally do. I didn't want to be here anyway. I certainly don't want to get in the way.' I don't want to look at his face. I don't want to see what he is feeling and I know he is feeling pity. I don't want that. I lie on the bed and curl up tighter into myself and suck on the sweetness.

'I'm not going in to work today. I'm taking Sam in and then I'll be back.'

I feel the weight of him sitting on the bed next to me. 'Please Hotch. Aaron, leave me alone. I want to me alone.' A sigh and a hand on my shoulder.

'I'm not judging you Spencer. Know that. I just want you safe. I want you happy.'

I turn slightly so I can see him, no, more so he can see me. 'Well that just isn't going to happen Hotch. Not all the time what I want is forbidden.'

He stands. 'We will carry on this conversation when I return. We do need to talk about all of this.'

'You need to talk about this. To ease your guilt.'

He doesn't reply. He stands and leaves my room. I hear the key turn as he locks me in, but it doesn't matter. Let him think he has some control. He'll never understand. I hear Sam's angry words and Hotch's quieter ones and then the door downstairs slams and I am alone. I think maybe I could just up and leave, but I don't. I stay where I am and I suck on candy and close my eyes and hold myself tightly and think of Floyd…

And Taki.

It hardly seems he has been gone five minutes when I hear the door go downstairs. I wonder at first if it's someone else, but he calls out to me. 'It's me Spencer.' And I relax again. Maybe I keep falling asleep. That might be why time seems to go so fast and then so slowly, but the next thing I know Hotch is setting coffee mugs on the bedside table next to my jar of candy and is sitting again on the edge of the bed.

'Thanks.' I say as I look at the mug. Though I would sooner be left alone.

'So, we need to talk about things.' Hotch says to me.

'Where do you want to start?' I begin to roll over onto my back and feel the rush of pain which reminds me of what happened last night. I move carefully back onto my side, but lie so I can see Aaron properly. 'How far back?'

'For now with yesterday. What happened?'

'I thought it was pretty obvious what happened.'

'I know what the end result was. I don't know who it was or how he got in my house? Did you let him in?'

I raise an eyebrow at him. 'No…no I didn't invite him in. Damnit Aaron. Why would I invite Taki into your home?'

'Taki? He did that and you didn't call out for help?' The poor guy looks confused.

'I didn't need help. Hotch, really I don't think just going back as far as yesterday is going to work.'

'He hurt you Spencer.'

I stay silent now and move so he cant see my face and what he does next I didn't expect. He gets up and moves around the bed and sits behind me. I can feel his hand on my back touching where I have scratches and bite marks.

'I don't believe you enjoy this' He says. And he must be leaning right in close to me because I can feel his breath on my back. I let out a sigh and I really want to try to explain to him, but he's my boss. He was. He is still the one in control. He is still able to manipulate and do what he wants because that is what Hotch does. I feel the bed move again and I know he is lying on the bed behind me. All I have on is the towel he gave me yesterday so it's easy to feel his hands on me. Protectively. Gently. I want to push him away and tell him to leave me alone and that he just doesn't understand, but I don't. I let him do this the same way I let Floyd take what he wants…the same way I let Taki have me…the same way, well, the same way I wont resist anyone wanting me, because feeling wanted fills me; in lots of ways and if this is how Hotch is going to show he wants me then I shouldn't complain. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me closer. I don't resist him but at the same time I don't react to him. I try to block out the feeling of his hands on my chest and running along my arm and I try to ignore the mouth on the back of my neck.

'I just want to look after you.' He finally says. 'I don't like you being hurt like this Spencer. I want…I need to protect you from it.'

I close my eyes and sigh. 'I don't need protecting Hotch. You'll understand that eventually.'

'Will you let me at least try?'

I reach out and grab some candy. 'I miss him Aaron. It's like part of me has been ripped away. He was doing what you are doing now, but in his own way. He was protecting me.'

His breath sighs against the back of my neck and across my shoulders but he says no more. He just holds me and I let him because that is my place.

I don't know how long it is when I hear the house phone ring. I can feel Aaron has relaxed behind me and his hands have stopped moving and when he doesn't react to the constant ringing of the phone I nudge him. 'Hotch, the phone.'

'I can hear it.' A sleepy voice. 'If it's important they will call me on my cell.'

And his cell starts to vibrate in his pocket. At least I assume that's what it is.

-o-o-o-

I don't know when I was last this angry with a child. He is still a child. He is sixteen and I will get him under control. In the car isn't the place to discuss this though. I will wait until I am home. I need to get back. I need to be in the house where I know I can keep an eye on Spencer. I have requested personal time. I thought I would be able to spend it helping Spencer heal, but I think Sam is going to try to alter things.

'Just stop doing that will you?' I snap at him. The boy is forever touching himself.

'I want a smoke.'

His voice is like that of a sulky child. Which is exactly what he is.

'I want a smoke and a drink. I hate that school Aaron. Find me someplace else. I'll try somewhere else.'

'No smoking in the car and no drinking period. That Sam, is the only place which will take you and you will carry on attending.' Damnit I didn't want to talk about this now. 'We will talk about this later.'

'So Spencer can whore in the spare room, but I can't at school?'

The urge to reach across and slap him is huge, but I don't. I grip the wheel tighter and pull up at the red stop lights.

'We will talk about this later.'

'Why are you doing this Aaron?'

'Later.' I repeat and pull away and then across to take us down the street we live in. We live in…Sam and I and why do I do this? I'll think about that later.

'Sam.' I snap.

'What?'

'Hands.'

A sigh from Sam.

I usher him into the lounge and make him sit. He pulls a cigarette from his pocket and lights up and he knows full well I wont allow smoking in the house so in two strides I am there taking it from him.

'No.' I tell him. It's a word I don't think he likes to hear.

'Screw you.' He hisses back at me, but doesn't move from his place on the couch.

'Care to explain what in hell's name you think you're playing at?'

He bites on his bottom lip in a very Spencer like manner and twitches his eyebrows at me. 'You wouldn't believe me if I told you and I'm not going back there.'

'I want your side of the story and you certainly are going back there with a new set of rules.'

He shrugs at me and shakes his head. 'I run a drugs ring. I give blow for blow so to speak…then I screw and pass it on. It's just how things are. I bloody told you that place was bad for me, but you wont believe me.'

'So far Sam, you have done what I have asked. You have kept reasonable grades, you have kept out of fights, but now I am going to have to state the obvious I can see. My mistake, I should have made it clearer for you. No, absolutely no sexual acts are to be carried out at school and no drugs.'

'Then why the hell do I go there?'

He looks genuinely confused.

'To learn how to be an acceptable member of society. To get good grades and so you can maybe get a job.'

'I don't need grades to do what I want to do. I have my career planned and I am bloody acceptable! People like me. They want to hang with me, you just wont let me hang with them or bring anyone back here.'

'You have a career planned?' I ignore his other comments.

'I'm going to be a whore and why do you care anyway. I am a Flanders. What makes you want to control my life? What's it to you?'

And I cant answer that because I really don't know. What I do know is that the world needs to be protected from this child and I will do whatever it takes to see that it's done. I have already talked to people about it. I have the number I need to call.

'I'm getting you a minder.' I tell him.

'You what?' Sam stands up.

'Someone who will keep an eye on you and be there for you, with you, shadowing you. You will go nowhere without him knowing, and believe me Sam, I will sort you out.' I pause as I watch the different expressions falling over his face. 'Hands Sam.' I say and leave him to make a phone call.

-o-o-o-

They think I did this? How the hell did I do it?

'I hope he's in pain.' Someone is saying. 'Son of a bitch.' Someone else is announcing and I want to shout at them for being so damned stupid. How can this have been me? 'At least Rogers managed to gut him.' Someone remarks…Stupid arse…it wasn't that creep. 'Just before the bastard killed him.' I try to open my mouth to talk but it's just not happening. At least they've moved me. I seem to be on a hospital bed now and I want to move my fingers but still there is nothing. I need to mend, but I don't know…it really isn't going to be easy. I want to see Spencer. Need to ask what the hell went on with Taki. I need him to know I am here. Where the hell is he? I've tried calling out to him again, but there is nothing.

'I don't know how he is still alive.' Someone is saying. 'We are taking him down to surgery soon. If he is still with us.' Ah you bastards…I know you don't want me to be with you still, but gutting me? That will hurt like hell, but it's not going to kill me. He had very different reasons for doing this to me. He is still doing his job, but he's made a mistake this time. One hell of a big mistake. Come on someone see it. It's so fucking obvious.

-o-o-o-

I had just put the phone down to call in Johnson to watch Sam when the phone went again. I listened. For much of the call I was leaning against the wall with my eyes shut. With my hand over my face as though that would take the horror of what I am hearing away. 'Keep me informed.' I say and I place the phone carefully back in the recharger unit.

'Sam. Go to your room for five minutes will you. I need to think without the distraction of what you are doing with your hands.'

'I wouldn't have to do it if you'd let me fuck someone.' He snaps at me as he walks past me and up the stairs to his room.

Something is wrong. Something is wrong with what I was just told. I pull my phone from my pocket and speed dial Garcia. I tell her what I need and request she sends the info over to my PDA. Less than a minute passes and I get an incoming bleep. _You are incredible Miss Garcia_, I think to myself…and run up the stairs to where I left Spencer not too long ago.

I only just remember to knock before entering the room again. He is sitting rather awkwardly on the end of the bed looking at me with big beautiful eyes.

'I'm having a problem with Sam.' I let him know this first. 'But I need your help with something.' I hold up the PDA. 'I want you to look at some pictures and tell me what you see. They're not very nice, but I need fresh eyes on it. Your eyes.' I close the door quietly just as a sudden blast of music fills the house. I let him. He has to have some things going his way or this just wont work.

I sit down next to Spencer and I am watching him closely. I pass him my PDA. 'Look at the pictures carefully Spencer. Look at the detail. Every little mark and slice. Then I want to ask you something.'

I watch him still. I see the expression on his face turn form inquisitive to blank. I've seen him do that before when he's pushing away emotion and just allowing the analytical part of his mind work. He flicks from picture to picture and then hands it back to me.

'I'm not sure what I'm meant to be looking for. I would be able to see more if you printed it out.'

I nod at him and stand up. 'I'll go and do that now. Top draw – a change of clothes.' And I leave the room to a blast of heavy metal, or something. Briefly I think about asking him to turn it down, but I turn and go downstairs instead. Let Johnson deal with it. I'm too tried.

The pictures are just being printed out when there is a knock on the door. The six foot seven dark skinned guy – Agent Johnson gives me a smile. 'Just follow the music.' I say and indicate the stairs and as I do I see Spencer making his way slowly down. We catch each other's smiles and I walk to the lounge and sit. The pictures I spread over the table. Two fresh coffees later Spencer is sitting looking through the pictures again. He is placing them in piles and frowning at them and running his finger carefully over them.

'I'm still not sure what I'm meant to be looking at. Who did this? The same UnSub for both, I can see that. Two different locations and they seem somewhat staged. The bodies have been moved. Dragged into position. I'm trying to think why someone would do that.' He looks up at me to see if that was what was expected.

'Spencer.' I am going to have to be careful here. 'Floyd did this.'

He looks at me and frowns and picks up the pictures again and flicks through them. 'No he didn't. Why do you say he did?'

'Because he confessed to those three. He said they attacked you.'

'Oh. Well, Hotch, I don't know why you are asking me then. What is it you want?'

'I want to know if you are thinking the same thing I am.'

Again he picks up the pictures and looks through them and starts shaking his head, 'Hotch, both cases a weapon has been used. These people have been sliced open with a blade. Are there any parts removed from them?'

'They think a sword was used in the first case. Still looking into the second. As far as I know, nothing was removed from them.'

Again he is shaking his head. 'This wasn't Floyd Hotch. He never uses weapons. This just isn't his MO at all. You arrested him on this?'

'He admitted to it.'

'It didn't cross anyone's mind that he was acting a bit odd that day?' Reid stands up and wobbles and quickly with a sigh sits awkwardly down again.

'Floyd always acts odd.' The music stops suddenly.

'Hotch I can promise you, this was not Floyd's doing. He wouldn't do it like that. Where is he now?'

'Surgery.'

-o-o-o-

He has got to be fucking kidding me! He looks he could squash me with one finger…I've never seen such a big fucker in my damned life. I had my hand playing…and my dope ready to go and he appears. Turns off my music and tells me to get up off the bed. When I told him to get the hell out of my room he fucking hit me!

I'm not putting up with this…no one hits me. No one. Not bloody ever does some goon slap me around.

But he has picked me up by the front of my dungarees and pushed me against the wall with my feet offa the ground.

'You are I are going to be the best of buddies.' He tells me, so I kick him in the balls and the bastard just smiles big gold capped teeth at me and delivers a slap across my mouth. 'Try something like that again you little shit and you will end up in hospital. Do I make myself clear?'

I spit blood and nod.

Not because I agree…not really, but because I want him to let go of me.

I'll get him for this.

I will.

Just not right this second.

* * *


	10. Chapter 10 Club Mix

Club Mix

* * *

'I can't let you see him Spencer. I'm sorry.'

But I know this wasn't Floyd's doing. I can see it isn't him. It seems so damned obvious to me. I do have a damned good idea who did do it though.

'The thing is Hotch, I realise how this looks, but this wasn't Floyd.'

'The man is deranged. You cant say that.'

I slam the pictures down on the table.

'Then why show these to me? What was it you wanted me to say? That this definitely was him?'

but Aaron is shaking his head. 'It looks wrong to me. I just couldn't see what it was that was wrong. It is the use of the sword. The staging of the scene, but why would have Floyd said it was him? Why did he do to you what he did? He was hiding you. What for? Who from?'

'You know the answer already, why are you making me say it?' I glance down at the printouts again. 'He wasn't hiding me from the police Hotch. He was hiding me from whoever did that. Can't you see that? I could talk to him. Let me talk to him.'

Hotch is shaking his head and I can hear Sam's voice shouting abuse at someone from upstairs. He sounds so much like Floyd that it makes my stomach hitch. I'm going to be sick. Carefully I stand up and look out towards where Hotch has the downstairs bathroom.

'I told you. Reid. Reid?'

I am stumbling forward with my hand over my mouth trying not to vomit on Hotch's floor but the faster I move the more unstable my footing becomes and as my knees hit the floor jarring pain up my legs and through painful areas I place my hands on the floor and empty the sweet sugary contents of my stomach. He is instantly beside me. Standing watching, not sure how to react to it, to me. Once the twisting in my guts has finished I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and kneel looking at the mess I've made. I don't apologise. I don't say anything. I just stay where I am and look at the mess and see it as my life. Once sweet. Now a mess that someone else will end up clearing up.

'If I talk to him. He will explain.'

A cool hand touches the back of my neck. 'Go and sit down and let me clear up.' But I shake my head at him.

'It's my mess Hotch. I need to clear it up myself.'

A hand around my waist and one on my arm and Aaron is lifting me to my feet. 'You will let me help you Spencer. Go and sit down.'

I glance around my self and move slowly to a chair pushed against the wall. I sit carefully down and look over at Hotch. 'Why is he in surgery?' I say as he starts to leave the room.

'He – he. Reid. I don't think he is going to survive this. I'm awaiting a call, but one way or the other you cant see him.' He is looking over at me with a tired sad face. 'But I'm here and I will help you through this. Let me get some things and I'll clean up.' And before I can say more he is gone.

I made my decision quickly.

As soon as he was out of the room I am on my feet again. I grab the pictures off the table and then out in the hallway I take his keys from the hook and his wallet from his jacket pocket.

I am gone before he gets back.

-o-o-o-

Bleeping of machinery is all I can hear when I open my eyes again.

I try moving my arms and then my legs and I think I am strapped down again, but I'm not really sure. My head feels very wrong. It is like someone has been rummaging around inside it and moving things around. My happy place has gone completely and all I can find where it used to be is a thick grey fog. I moved around in my mind a bit more searching for what should be there and can only seem to find dark spaces and lusty smells. Around these spaces is more greyness. Its like someone took an erasure and smudged it away quickly. Too quickly maybe. They missed a few bits. A thin oh so thin pathway from a dark but sticky place has lead me to something less lustful. The feelings here, in this part of my mind are different. They are lighter. The sky is blue. The grass is green and for some reason I don't understand right now this place hurts like fuck. I pull back from it quickly. I know what the place is and as I pull back I try to remove that thin little pathway myself, but I cant quite do it completely. It is more like stepping stones now; a long distance apart but still possible to get to the other side if I try.

I might fall.

That might be a risk I will be willing to take at another time, but not now. Now I need to stay in the dark and the familiar places where I can pull back and hide or just watch.

Blah, blah, blah, is going on at me from somewhere outside my mind. It is close though, but I will have to open up a bit more to hear more of it. I don't know who is saying the words. I don't know the voice and so I decide it's not worth listening to.

They go away. The voices fade back and I crawl through my mind trying to find those places I once knew so well. Right through the middle of it there is a river. Not too fast, but moving at a steady rate. I can stand in it and it come up to my mind shin level. It's warm and in the distance I can hear falling water so I walk towards it.

Slowly, I walk slowly. I know I have been here before. It is familiar in very many ways but there is something usually here with me and that something or someone has gone. If I stop and turn to look at the river bank I can see it is all fake. Can see that the scenery is just painted on old cloth and in places the backdrop is ripped and light is seeping in from behind it. Sometimes bright light and sometimes a deep red fetid light. I'm not particularly drawn to either and so I keep on walking through my memories or what is left of them. There is a nice place here. Soft moaning sounds and a comfortable floor and here I feel safe and so I lie down and relax

-o-o-o-

I don't drive for long. I'm aware that I am finding keeping Aaron's SUV going in a straight line almost impossible. I would soon get picked up and I'd end up back where I started.

I know where I want to go. I have plenty of time to get there. No hurry. No rush. I make my way to a small side street where I know there to be an ATM. I take Hotch's card from his wallet and place the wallet it's self in the glove compartment. Then with a bit of paper from his hand note book and with the emergency pencil I write a quick note and leave it on the passenger seat.

'_It's in the glove compartment…Reid.'_

Is all it says, but I take the plastic I have in my hand and slip it into my pocket and meander my way to the machine on the wall of the fast food joint. I know his pin number for this card. He's never given it to me, but I've been with him when he's used it and I've seen where his fingers go to. It's hard for me not to remember. Impossible even. I slip the card into the card into the machine and punch in the numbers. There is guilt as I take the small bundle of cash from the slot, but I never asked him to bring me here. I never asked him to show me the images. I never wanted any of this. I close my eyes and bring up a mental map of the area…as soon as my eyes close I begin to hear screaming and crying in the back of my mind, so I snap them open again, but it's alright. I know which way to go now to keep off the big roads and not be seen.

By the time I get there it is getting dark. Which is what I had planned on. The money is secured in my pockets tightly and I have picked up a pair of sneakers from a goodwill store.

Now…

Now I need to get rid of this flatness I am feeling.

Now…

I need to escape it and bring it back to how it was.

I really, and I mean it, I really don't care what they think of me. I really don't care if I'm seen here now. I've not actually done anything wrong (except steal a few hundred dollars). It's not like I am a criminal.

This sort of place has people hanging around twenty four seven, but I'm not looking for that sort of thing tonight. I'm not looking for a quicky against a wall…tonight I want something a bit more meaningful. I have little hope of finding it, but I can look cant I?

The club is one I have been to before with Floyd. He keeps me there on show and sometimes we go into a dark corner and we enjoy each other…sometimes…on occasion Floyd will just watch and someone else will enjoy me. Those times are not quite as enjoyable. No one is quite as good as Floyd. No one. Ever. They might think they are and I might even say they are, but how can a few tender years compare with the Flanders experience? I am grinning to myself when I walk up the steps and into the club.

It's still not as busy as I would have liked it but the music is pounding and the atmosphere is familiar and comforting. There is also the comfort that no one will come looking for me here.

I've not been here in a while. We've been gone from the area some time now, but I can see people looking at me and searching for the face I am always with.

He was always my security. I always felt so safe when I was with him and now I suddenly feel oddly vulnerable. I make my way quickly to the bar. Maybe a few drinks will help ease this sudden uncomfortable feeling. I'm annoyed that it is making me feel like this in a place I always thought I would feel at home. I've been coming here for so long now that we were part of the fixtures and fittings. There are new faces. Different people tending the bar. I have to ask for my drink. They don't know me. I shout my order over the counter at the barkeep and he nods and soon delivers a tumbler of amber coloured liquid. I turn now and lean on the bar and watch the room slowly fill.

I don't know how many drinks later it is when a voice shouts into my ear.

'You are alone?'

I turn to look at a face I have seen before and not necessarily a face I want thrust so close to mine. I give quick nod and turn back to watching the room full of men all looking for much the same thing. I'm coming to the realisation now that I'm not going to get what I wanted from here. I don't know I thought I would. These are all the same people looking for all the same things they always do, and that little bit of extra isn't going to come from them.

Thinking about it, realistically, it is Hotch who can give that to me, but again, he cant deliver the full package. It seems I can have one or the other or I can have Floyd.

Now that my thoughts have wandered to him again I get rush through my body and it is such a deep need that I turn again to look at the guy standing next to me. He is holding out another drink for me and so I nod and sort of smile and take it from him.

'So where is the other one?' He shouts at me over the sound of the clubbing music.

I shrug and shake my head in a non committal sort of manner and take a long drink from the glass.

'He's not here?'

I ignore him.

'So you want some fun?'

I turn to look at him again and once more wish it was someone else who had approached me, but my body is shouting at now and doesn't seem to care. I nod again and swallow back the rest of the drink. I feel his arm snake around me. Touching my back and the clasping me just above my hip and it is really only now I am thinking that this might be an extremely painful experience considering what I have recently been through, but the liquor is deadening sensations of all kinds now and …

…

well…

what the hell?

It can't possibly hurt more then what Taki did to me, but I am wondering if this guy whose name I don't know or if I do know it it has been washed away in alcohol, I am wondering how if it will be a problem for him.

A slight panic is sneaking its way in through my brain as another drink is placed in my hand and another smile is aimed at me.

'Drink up sweetheart.'

His breath rushes across my ear and cheek and his fingers tighten and dig slightly into me. I really want to try to think, but things are getting blurred now as he guides my drinking hand to my face.

'Drink.'

And now he doesn't sound quite as friendly. I try to push it away, but now my hands are shaking and my eyes don't really seem to be working properly. The lights are dimming and the crowd is a fuzzy blur and as the now empty glass is taken from my hand I realise that I am being walked across the dance floor to an area near the rear of the club with darkened trellis and alcoves.

I want to protest.

I want to tell him to let go of me, but my words wont come to me and I think if I pull away now I will just fall. I seem to be leaning on him for support and he is taking that was my "come on" and moving me faster to some dark corner.

'I know you. I've had you before.'

He lets me know as he pushes me hard against the wall.

'Your man, he's not here to help you out today.'

His hand on my chest pushing me back seems to be the only thing stopping me from being on the floor.

I'm not sure what happened next.

Well…

I know what happened, but I don't have any memory of it. Just the knowledge that it did happen.

I am still in the alcove, only now I am alone. The music is still just as loud and I really have no idea how much time has passed but I am lying on my side facing the wall. My shirt is lying in the space between my stomach and the wall and my jeans are pull up but undone. They are not properly pulled up though. Very roughly. I can taste blood in my mouth and as I raise hands to my face I can feel it is sticky with blood (?) I think it is blood. Tentatively I touch my nose, but it doesn't scream pain at me so I check the rest of my face. I've had a nose bleed. My lip is split and I seem to have a cut above my eye. I now move my hands carefully over the rest of me and in my befuzzled mind I wonder why no one has come to help. Why I am still here and bleeding from more than one place but yet no one is helping me.

So for a while I lie there and try to think what to do now. What am I meant to do? Put my top back on seemed to be a good choice and so that is what I do first.

Another skip of time.

Again I'm not sure what happened or how I got to where I am now but I am being half carried out of a back door and into a side street. I seem to be missing my shoes and want to say something but I am being unceremoniously thrown down onto a pile of rubbish next to the big green bins.

So there I stay.

I don't move.

I don't make a sound.

I certainly don't complain.

This was after all the something extra I had been looking for.

Wasn't it?

* * *


	11. Chapter 11 Lost

Lost

* * *

I stand and look at him and I want to feel something and I don't. I want to look at that face and understand what Reid sees but I can't do that either. I just see someone who uses people and discards them just as quickly. I see someone who will murder and rape and despoil and never think twice about it.

The point is though, that even though I _know_ he does these things I have no proof and now I have looked further and thought deeper I can see he didn't do this.

Forensics came back too. All the blood apart from a few smears on his arm and face, on him was his own. There was no way he could have killed all those people and not got covered in it.

It wasn't him.

And now they are going back and looking at what brought him here in the first place and they are saying now, maybe, just maybe that wasn't him either. They are saying that his blood was so full of toxins that he would have hardly been able to make a decision. The ones he did make were odd. I know, I realise now that he was hiding Spencer from someone and not from the police. Something else had gone on. We just have no idea what it was. I do have a good idea though that it involved the same person who could get in and out of my house without being seen.

He is awake.

The monitors say he is awake. The scans to his brain say there is nothing wrong. He is just not responding to any stimuli. They have run things along the bottoms of his feet. They have stuck needles into his arms and legs, but there is nothing. He has completely closed down.

I sit next to the bed now and I talk to him. I talk to him about Spencer. He has been missing now for three days. He took my car and my money and just disappeared. I need to ask Flanders where he would have gone. I thought maybe back to the Candy Store, but the local police up there have been monitoring the place and he's not turned up yet. That's not to say he won't, but I have a feeling he is local still. I just don't know where and I don't know why he would be hiding from us, from me. I just want to help him.

'You need to talk to us Floyd. If only for Spencer. You need to tell us what you know.'

But there is nothing. His eyes flicker continuously behind his eyelids but nothing else and so I try something else. I lean forward and take his hand.

'Floyd, Spencer is missing. We need to know where he is. I need to ask you where he would go.'

The hand twitches in mine but nothing else. I look over at the tubes and drips and the vile dressing coursing down his body and really I'm not surprised he wishes to stay where he is. Wherever that is.

'I know you don't like the friendship I have with Reid, but I also know that Taki is out there somewhere. I need to find him. I need to find Spencer.'

Nothing. Not even a hand movement, but the eyes continue to flick from side to side. I let go of his hand and look over at the doctor. 'He is dreaming?' But the doctor slowly shakes his head.

'I really have no idea what is going on in his mind Agent Hotchner, only that he's not even sleeping. He hasn't slept since he came out of surgery; he seems to have just closed down. It's not a coma, it's not sleep, it's something else altogether different. I wish I knew. He seems to simply be ignoring us.'

I sigh and move away. 'You will let me know if there is any change.' I tell him and now I get a quick nod.

'Of course.' And as I move the leave the doctor moves in and checks on the bindings holding him in place. I want to ask if that is totally necessary, but I don't. I just walk away and hope deep down that I never have to look at him again.

-o-o-o-

She is such a sweet little thing.

But it's not how I saw my life and we only get one. I can't have this happen. It wasn't meant to be. I look down at her in the crib and smile. I don't touch her. I've not held her, but that doesn't mean I don't love her with every bone in my body.

My heart aches I want to take her and love her and never let her go, but no, I can't. I made the decision a long time ago. I'm not going back on that now. She is sleeping under a pale pink blanket which looks so warm against her beautiful skin and silky dark hair.

I want to just reach out. Just to touch that hair, just to have some physical memory of her, but I don't. I can't. I won't. I step back away and look over at the nurse who is looking at me with a sad but determined expression.

'I know what I am doing.' I say to her.

'I'm not judging you. You need to do what is best for both of you.'

'I do love her.' I say in a whisper and the nurse is at my side and her hand is on my arm.

'You wouldn't be here if you didn't. She wouldn't be here if you didn't.'

'She will hate me. She is so tiny and already I have let her down.'

The hand tightens on my arm. 'She won't hate you and you haven't let her down. You are doing what you need to do. She will be loved Emily. I can promise you that much. She will be treated like a princess. She will get everything a child would ever want.'

I rub at my eyes with my fingertips and nod. 'I need to go.' I think I am going to be sick. 'I need to, I need to kiss her goodbye.' And the hand is gone.

'Of course you do. Please take your time, I'm not here to rush you, I'm just here to make sure you are alright.'

So I take a step forward and lean down and the smell of the new baby is so sweet and wonderful. I kiss her gently on the top of the head. The baby girl with no name.

'It feels wrong that she has no name.' I mutter. I know what Flanders wanted her to be called but I refuse to call her that. Instead I smile a final smile and say 'Good night Princess.'

And I leave.

-o-o-o-

I'm not sure how long it has been. Days, I think it has been days that I have been curled up here in the mess. The money I took has gone along with the card and my shoes. I have ten dollars. One note. I keep taking it from my pocket and looking at it. Was it forgotten when they took the rest? Or is this payment? I really don't know. I shouldn't care. It is enough to get me something else for my feet and something to drink, but as soon as I do that the I have accepted what I am.

Today I get up out of the junk and today I have made a decision. I walk slowly, though the pain has now left me I am not light headed from lack of food or water. If I am still where I think I am then it's not far to the shop where I can get footwear. I take out the money again and look at it and sigh. I have no choice. I make believe that the money was forgotten and not left as payment and take a deep breath as I round the corner.

I am filth and I know I smell bad but there is nothing I can do about that now. I just need to get my feet sorted and carry on. Carry on with what though. That will be the next thing I have to consider.

The shoes are OK. They cost me two bucks and the change I stuff into my pocket and try not to think about it. There are a lot of places down here where I can stop and get a drink. Places where I can sit in the warmth and relax, but I don't. I get a strong sweet coffee from a stand and then I keep walking. Again, I know where I am going. I've been down these streets so many times before. I know them well, but never have I been alone. They suddenly feel cold and threatening. The windows of the stores have stopped calling out to me to come in and browse and have fun. Now they are flat cold glass putting a barrier between me and what used to be my life.

It's busy here, but further down the people thin out and I stop getting bumped into and the funny or disapproving looks go and the people begin to look more like me. Down and outs. Homeless. Hustlers. Kids. Most of them I would think are much younger than me, but I've always been able to give off an innocent young vibe, so I keep walking. These shops are sex stores. They sell toys and goodies you wouldn't be able to get in your normal high street store. They sell DVD's and Videos which for the most part are probably very illegal. I'm not interested in any of this. I keep walking. The coffee slowly cooling in my hands. When it's gone I look around for a bin, but it seems people just throw rubbish onto the ground here. The place is littered with condoms and other filth. I place my now empty cup on top of a pile of rubbish and stand looking at shop I am in front of.

This is not something I have ever done before. Floyd either didn't like, or he provided. Today is a first for Dr Spencer Reid. I enter the shop and go to the counter.

Silly I know, but I really have no idea what I need to ask for, so I just stand there staring at the guy behind the counter who for a while just stares back. I give him a tight smile and place a pile of coins on the counter. I get a smirk in reply and a pack of six is placed next to my money. He counts out what he needs and I take what is left and the pack and I leave.

I feel hot and uncomfortable.

New situations like that always do. I might have three PhDs, but that doesn't mean I have a diploma in condom purchase.

The walk to where I know I need to be is a reasonably short one. A few blocks and around the corner and here I am. It's too early though and the place is mostly deserted. I'm not sure on the time. Mid day around about I would put it at.

It is a wide open area which used to have a few warehouses and offices. Mostly they are closed down, but not exclusively. I'm not sure what sort of business is conducted behind those dirty high up windows, but the light is flickering and it gives off a nasty sick yellow glow. Once there was grass. Once this was a nice place to work now the work conducted here is of a very different kind.

There are old metal benches along the edge of an equally old building. I sit there for a long while with my feet pulled up onto the seat and my arms wrapped around my legs and I keep my face down and shielded. There is no reason why Hotch will come looking for me here, not unless someone has clued him up on this side of my life, but I don't think they have. I'm sure they would have found me by now and as the day gets longer and the shadows draw across what used to be part of a park and is now rough earth and mud, I feel more secure. The yellow light still shines from that one window and now it looks even more eerie, but that is part of the lure of this place. You can't see faces properly in this light. You don't recognise people. You can be whoever you want.

More lads slowly turn up and stand in small groups. Not many, maybe ten in total. I glance up at them and see for a while they are looking at me, wondering who I am, but when I unfurl myself and stand they just nod the acceptance. They know me and they are looking around for my companion. I give them a half smile and shrug. They turn their backs and carry on with conversation that they are not willing to share with the guy on his own.

I move away slowly and towards the small side road which runs through the middle of this place.

Business here, well the clients usually want the same thing. They don't care what you look like. They just want your mouth. I lean against a tree at the very edge of the road with my arms wrapped around me. I can taste the coffee I bought earlier in my mouth still. Sickly and sweet. Purchased with whores money. When the car pulls up and the window slides down I walk over slowly and lean down towards the light coming from the car. It is obviously the passenger side. A few words are exchanged and I pull the car door open. A glance back and the others are nodding at me. We – they – this community, look after their own. I slide into the seat and pull the restraint around me and with out another word the car pulls away.

-o-o-o-

The only other way to try to trace Reid was to trace usage of my card. I didn't want him to stop using it, so it was effectively being used as a trace. All transactions used via the card were accepted. I didn't want him to spook and stop using it. This was the only way we could keep tabs on where Reid had been and what he was doing.

Day two before things began to look wrong.

Half way into day two and Morgan and Rossi were out asking questions of the store owners where the card had been used.

'Short guy with dark hair.'

'Woman with bleached blond hair. Looked like a hooker.'

'A junky with piercings.'

It really wasn't long before it became evident that this card wasn't being used by Reid. It seemed to be being passed around the drugs community. Not one description fitted Reid. His picture was shown to all the stores and they were asked to keep a copy there as a reminder, but no one had seen him.

-o-o-o-

I know what he is doing.

I need to stop him. I need to be there with him.

I need to hold him and smell him and touch him.

But I'm trapped.

I want to find my way out of this mire I'm in. My mind.

I heard Agent Aaron Hotchner. I felt him hold my hand. I wanted to say something. I wanted to tell him to go get Spence, but I can't. For a short while I tried, but there it is again…that greyness…that emptiness…and now I am here I don't know how to get back.

I need Spencer.

I shouldn't need him.

He has made me weak.

Once I am out.

When I am free.

I will end it.

Maybe.

Until I see that face. The one I can't be without.

Damn him.

* * *


	12. Chapter 12 Deals

Deals

**A/N: SMALL SLASH ALERT, BUT ONLY SMALL.**

* * *

It had been decided a while ago.

They had already been chosen.

The whole process went strangely smoothly for all involved and now they stood hand in hand looking down at the tiny baby awaiting its new home.

A normal couple.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

In fact they were noticeable by their lack of anything interesting about them. He slightly taller than she. She with long brown hair in a ponytail. He with respectable short dark hair. She in a nice pale pink skirt and sweater. He in beige pants and a pale yellow shirt. They clutched each other's hands as they looked down at the one thing they had both dreamed of. The perfect baby.

'You know all this time we have waited and I knew all along what I would call our baby girl.' She looked lovingly down at the tiny thing sleeping the in the crib. 'But she just doesn't look like a Fiona.'

He looked at his beloved wife and shook his head. 'No she doesn't.'

A sigh.

The new mother took her free hand and stroked the back of the tiny pink hand. 'I don't know Tony.' She addressed her husband, 'but does she look more like a "Rosa" to you?'

'Such a pretty name.' He responds.

And there it was. Signed sealed and delivered. Baby Rosa Franks had her new mummy and daddy.

-o-o-o-

He follows me everywhere I go. It's like some kind of other hell I've been dropped into.

In class he is outside standing against the wall. He waits. On the occasions I have not been the perfect student he has entered the room and dragged me out by the scruff of my neck and given me a long and tedious lecture in a "special room" he has been give for the purpose of "educating" me on how to behave. It's a small room I think was a large cupboard. No windows. Two chairs. Something to make coffee on and a large hook on the wall which more than once he has suspended me from while he talks to me about manners.

I still get looks from the other kids but they are different sorts of looks now. They are "stay away from Sam" looks and I am less than happy. My drugs supply ran out immediately and no amount of my kicking and swearing at this monster would change his mind. My head is screaming out for something. I'm not sure what it is, but I fidget and wriggle constantly. My hands are always in the wrong damned place it seems. My fingers were so bruised I could hardly hold the freaking pen to do the work he was demanding I did. Demands, constant demands and they don't see it, they don't see that the first opportunity I get I'll be gone. I just need that chance. I need to get this bastard off my back.

I set off the fire alarms. My thinking was that I'd get away in the crowd, but he just plucked me from the hordes and dragged me to the room and hung me from the hook while I screamed and flailed and he made coffee and ate cookies and said repeatedly.

'Shut up little boy.'

And it made me shout even louder.

Now there is this thing attached to my ankle. He put it there. He fucking sat on me and put it there in the middle of the damned Math class. The bastard. I am tagged and everyone knows.

Lunch.

He leaves me alone. He goes someplace else but I know somehow he is watching. So here I am now. I have my tray and on it is a splodge of something which might be food, I've not checked it yet and a carton of chocolate milk. Oh let us not forget the little pot of green jello. I'm alone. No one will associate with the kid with the demon minder, so when Jarvis sits down the other side of the table and one of his little henchies sits either side of me I look up and just give him a questioning glance.

'Thought I might have something you'd like.' He says without moving his mouth. I look back up at him and frown. I don't want Johnson rushing in and squishing my face in my food again so I'm playing a game of caution here and don't answer. He lifts his carton of milk off the tray and resting under it is a small pack of something. I look at it and then back up at him.

'What do you want?'

'Rumour has it that you have a good mouth.'

And the carton goes back down on the pack.

Now there is a hand on my knee and another on the small of my back.

'That may be true, but you know my situation isn't exactly normal right now.' I tell him and give the doorway a quick look.

'He's in the principles office.' Jarvis tells me and the hand on my knee tightens then moves to my groin and starts rubbing at me and the hand on my back begins to push me forward.

'Get under the table.' The voice to the right.

'You have five minutes or you lose.' The voice to the left and a sharp push with his hand.

'You have no conception of the trouble I will be in if I get caught.' I move against the hand touching me.

He flashes the glorious white powder at me again and it was all it took. I am under the damned table and pulling at Jarvis' clothing before I even have time to think of the consequences or even when I will get the chance to use the stuff, or even how I will hide it from Johnson. But Jarvis is fucking my mouth and all other thoughts are well and truly gone from my head. I don't know how long I am there for, only a few minutes I suspect. He was pretty desperate. Just as I am about to pull back he is gone and in place of what was there is a boot. A big Jarvis sized boot and the kick is hard enough to knock me back so my head smacks on the bench seat behind me. Somewhere I hear laughing and I can feel the feet of other people joining in. My face is usually kept pretty much clear of Johnson's fists now. They have to be careful I have a neck injury. These kicks though, they seem to be aimed at my face and lower regions.

Everything started off and finished with equal suddenness. One second it feels like fifty pairs of feet are kicking me and the next it is just one voice.

'Where's your nigger when you need him.'

And one last boot to my face and he is gone.

The whole damned school must've seen that. Everyone must know what just happened and there is no way in freaking hell I am going to go back to any damned class in this school now. I think my balls are crushed and there is blood dripping from various places on my face. Slowly and remember I am under the table in the lunch hall, very slowly I roll onto my side and then not so slowly I vomit food and blood and something else over the green and yellow tiled floor. I stay there. Not through choice but because it is around then that darkness crawls across my vision and I sort of pass out lying there in my own puke.

Not sure of the time scale here cos I was still in that dark place when someone finally pulled me out and took me to the first aid room. It must have been a while though because when I next open my eyes and look around me it's not Johnson who is there it's Aaron. He doesn't look concerned that his ward had the shit kicked out of him, like you'd think he would, no, he just looks very pissed off with me.

'Ah shit.' I manage to say. I know without even asking him that I'm in deep fucking trouble now, but how much more than I'm already in, if that makes sense, can a boy be in? I've done everything and been punished for everything, where to go now?

'Why do you continue to mess up.' He says to me. 'You had twenty clear minutes to be trusted in and you tried to give oral sex to a class mate. I just want the best for you Sam, I don't want to see you forever in trouble. I don't want to see you turning out like your father, but I really wonder if there is any hope left for you. Why did you do it?'

I blink though what feels like a broken face at Aaron but I don't say anything.

'I've given you so many chances. This I am afraid was your last one.'

I frown at him.

'They wont have you back here again. Jarvis is down at the police station saying you molested him.'

'Right.' I say. He thinks he knows what happened. Cant argue with Aaron when he is in this frame of mind.

'I've arranged for you to go somewhere else. Johnson will be accompanying you.'

I frown at him again. 'A different school?' Damnit my lips hurt. I put my hand to my face to feel the damage, but Hotchner's hand pulls it away again.

'Don't touch. They need to put stitches in and yes, a different school, sort of. Sam I don't want you in my home any more.'

Why the fuck do those words hurt so much? 'You're kicking me out?' I really don't believe he would do that. Hell we have a bond! We are bonded he and I, he can't just get rid of me! 'You cant!' I'm pissed off and the sudden shout brings on a coughing fit which makes every part of my body hurt and my nuts scream. I move to my side and chuck up stuff I missed earlier.

'No I'm not kicking you out Sam, you did that yourself. I'll be your ward, I'll make sure you stop this behaviour. I'm sending you to Boot Camp.'

No…fucking hell no. Shit on a stick…he wouldn't do that. He just wouldn't. I know he wouldn't…and these are the only words going through my mind as they move me and clean me up and put butterfly clips and shit on my face.

-o-o-o-

I did, very stupidly think for a short while that we were getting through to Sam. He could sit and eat a meal at the table now and use utensils, even if a bit clumsily, but it meant both hands are occupied. This seems to the be the best way to get him out of the habit of having one hand constantly on his groin. It was after his third attempt to escape from Johnson that we decided to tag him. I wasn't sure it would work, but he's not set off any fire alarms since. It seemed that his behaviour at school had calmed down too now that Agent Johnson was there constantly. I don't know what tricks the man is using on him, but I am very aware of the occasional flinches Sam gives if the Agent moves too suddenly or too closely. Sam's not complained to me and I am sure he would. Sam complains about everything. If there is something to moan about he will do it. It is an almost constant barrage of complaints about one thing or the next. The food, the smell of the washing powder, the way morning light reflects off the walls, the temperature, the shampoo, the television shows. Anything and everything possible. He spends time now in the evening watching shows which I don't want to see but I watch just to show Sam I am on his side on some things. I let him smoke in the house. There didn't seem to be an option, he would do it anyway, so I have an extractor running constantly and a bowl of scented stones to try to disguise the vile smell. He drinks too. Not often and not much, but I let that go too now. All the time there is a feeling of control from him I am happy. This latest stunt though, it's not surprised me so much as disappointed me. I really don't know what he thought he was playing at, but the school wont have him back now. This was the final act and though it looks like the other students already punished him for what he did I have to show him that this sort of thing just doesn't happen. Boot Camp wasn't my first choice. I've been calling around places for a while now so I would be prepared for when things go wrong again, because though it looked like it was going so well, I know who he is. I know what he is and I have a responsibility for him.

Now I am sitting in the school first aid room and he looks beaten down. He looks small and pathetic and maybe more than a bit worried, but I'm not letting this go.

'I didn't start it.'

He suddenly says to me.

'There were a lot of witnesses Sam. They are all telling the same story.'

'I see. So you take their word against mine. He offered me some blow if I sucked him off.'

'And we have not talked about that sort of thing Sam? Have we not had long discussions about how you can't do that? Did you not agree with me that it isn't what you should be doing?'

'You weren't there! You didn't see them. They were all over me Aaron. Touching me. Pushing me. It's not that easy and anyway I cant do Boot Camp cos of my neck.'

'I'm sure they will go easy on them Sam. You just need to do as you are told.' But I know and hope it wont be easy. I hope this will finally force him to realise what he needs to do. I cant deal with everything on my own. My work, Sam, Flanders and obviously we are still looking for Reid. He took my car nearly three weeks ago, and I am having to juggle all of this and not forget Jack.

It is while I am sitting here thinking all of this and hearing Sam's voice moan in the background about how they touched him…teased him…offered him something in return, that my phone vibrates in my pocket and when I take the call it is the one to tell me that Flanders is awake.

'Sam, I have to go.' I stand up and walk over to him and take his hand. I don't know what it is, some kind of weird love maybe, but there is something binding me to the boy.

'I'll see you later then?'

And the doubt and panic is on his face again.

'Johnson will take you straight to where you are going.'

'But we have pizza tonight! Aaron!'

I drop his hand and move from the room quickly. I'm not sure. Have I failed, or am I still battling with him. I will soon find out I suppose. I just know he's not going to enjoy his new home.

-o-o-o-

I've got a jacket now, which is good, and I've taken up smoking, which is not so good, but keeps me occupied. I spend a lot of daylight hours sleeping. It's a strange arrangement we have. None of them trustworthy in any manner. Most of them probably diseased ridden, but it's still an arrangement. By day we hunt, or stand around waiting to be hunted and during the day we go to the dirty basement room at the back of the warehouses and curl up together preserving warmth. I know not one of these guys will steal from me. I know not one of them will harm me. I know that when someone does hurt one of us there is hell to pay. It's a strange comfort but they sort I am used to really. The fake Reid, the one who was in the FBI I don't think he ever really existed. Not really. Not as a real person.

Yet

Some nights when I am sitting in a car with a stranger and he is handing me some cash for a job done I think maybe this is the fake and the real Reid is still back there in my apartment catching the UnSub and being watched over by his comrades. Always watched over. Always protected until now, except I'm still watched over and protected even by the kids. There is just something about me which seems to shout out to people to keep an eye on me. Sometimes a car will pull up and I'll walk to it and Tommy or Si will run over and push me to the side and tell the guy to drive on.

'Not safe with him Kid.' They will tell me. 'He just wants someone to beat up on.'

They call me Kid. I've never told them my name. They have never asked. Even though I'm sure I am the oldest here, they still call me Kid.

Not sure what to make of that.

Another black car. Another slightly over weight greying guy. There seems to be an endless supply of them. Which is fine. They are keeping me fed and watered. And in smokes.

I take a deep drag and drop it to the floor and walk over to the car. The window slides open and a few words later I am in the car.

* * *


	13. Chapter 13 Moving On

Moving On

* * *

I have a line.

A very perfect line.

It seems to be the only thing I have real control over now. Everything else is just something happening because that is what I am and what I do. This though I have control over.

I take off my jacket and sit on it to keep my butt warm and in my Tshirt and this eerie light I can see the line clearly. It doesn't hurt. At first it did which is what got me doing it in the first place. Someone wanted to do that to me. I let him and I realised that I actually felt something more than this empty dead feeling I'd been carrying around for so long. I light up a smoke and twist my arm around so I can see my inner arm clearly. I have to be careful. I don't want the order messed up. I listen for that soft sound it makes as it touches my skin and I sigh. Even this now seems to have lost some of the effect it used to. It doesn't hurt. It doesn't fill that void as well as it used to. I put it to my lips and take a deep drag and look down at the new burn on my arm. I don't want anyone to know. I don't want other people to see it and comment on it and ask questions about it, because this is mine. It is totally mine and I have no intention of sharing this. I get up and put my jacket back on and enjoy the feeling of the fabric rubbing against the scabbing and new sores on my arms.

Floyd would hate it. He would tell me to stop. He would do something about it, but he's not here. They took him from me. The people I was once a part of. The people I can't trust. The people who manipulate and pull and push until you become what they want.

I need to sleep.

I need to find Floyd, but I don't know where to start. I have an idea, but I don't know how well it will work out so I'm thinking on it. Procrastinating. I'm unsure if my idea is a really good one or totally insane, but tomorrow I will maybe try it. I know I can't go to Hotch. I know what he will do and I know I will do as he tells me because he always manages to. This I think has probably upset him. I ran away from home like some stupid kid and now I'm not able to return. Aaron would tell me where Floyd is. I know he would have eventually, but that bridge is burnt now. I'm not going back. I don't want his help. I don't want his interpretation of love. I want Floyd and living like this isn't finding him. I thought for a while, the first week, that one of those cars would have Floyd sitting in it. Every time the window started to open my heart pounded and my stomach twisted in a knot, but it was never the face I truly wanted to see. That feeling of anticipation has gone now. Along with that release I got from the initial burn. It's all become one big numb empty feeling and I am living my life in a grey fog. I thought he'd come to find me; I really did. I have tried to call out to him in my mind, but he's not there. I just got blinding headaches.

'Here.'

Someone is standing in front of me. I look up and see Si and Tommy holding out a steaming drink to me.

'What's that for?' I eye it with a degree of suspicion.

'You looked cold.' And they push the drink into my hands, but I just look down at it.

'Just sit and drink it Kid.' Si tells me. 'You look like you need some company.'

I'm not sure where this is going. No one gives things for nothing here, but I am cold and maybe this is a genuine hand of friendship? I don't know, but I do as they say and sit back down and sip on the over sweet very strong drink of coffee and I'm not overly surprised when the hand rests on my knee.

-o-o-o-

'How long has he been awake?' I ask as I meet up with the doctor.

'A few hours. We are still not sure what is going on though. He seemed to come around from what ever it was, but it was closely followed by a seizure. He had four but nothing for the last hour. I must warn you that he is very poorly. I still have no idea how he has survived that injury, but he is reacting to his surroundings now.'

'Has he talked?' I ask as we carry on down the corridor.

'Only abuse. He is one angry man.'

I don't respond to that. I don't need to be told that Flanders is angry. He is never anything else. I enter the room and he doesn't look any different from last time I saw him. Tubes draining the wound and other things. An IV in his arm and straps holding him in place. Though I doubt very much he will be able to get up and go anywhere. I walk to his bed and pull up a chair to sit.

'And what the hell do you want?'

Well it's nice to know that the Flanders we all love is back to normal.

'We need to talk.'

'I have nothing I want to talk to you about Agent Aaron Hotchner.'

'I need to talk to you about Reid.'

He turns his head now and looks at me. 'We were doing OK you know. We were doing good. You just had to fuck it up for us didn't you?'

'It wasn't me Floyd and you know full well it wasn't me. It was whoever did this to you.'

A raised eyebrow. 'So you finally see I didn't do this? You had me strapped to this fucking bed for the gods only know how long and _now _you say it wasn't me? I got my guts sliced out of me because you just assume it's always me. You don't give me a damned chance to make right. You are constantly on my fucking back accusing me of shit I never did.'

I scratch the side of my neck and look at him and sigh. 'I want to talk to you about Reid.'

'Well I don't want to fucking talk to you about him. Go away…let me heal. Let me out of here and tell them to take the sodding restraints off. You have no damned legal right to do this to me. I've not been accused of anything. I didn't fucking do anything to be accused of and you bloody well know it.'

I stand.

I turn to leave. There is no point in talking to him when he is in this frame of mind. If nearly every word coming from his mouth is delusional rubbish then he won't answer my questions with any honesty.

'I'll come back when you stop behaving like this.'

I am nearly at the door.

'What about Spencer? What's wrong with him?'

And I stand still with my back to him because I'm not sure of the expression on my face. I'm not sure how I feel about this at all. He hasn't asked again for the restraints to be removed. He's not kicked up a fuss about where he is, but he has asked about Spencer. He cares and I don't know if I like that he does. I turn again and walk back into the room.

'I'm not going to talk to you about it if you don't calm down.' I tell him. He just stares at me. 'He has gone missing. I need to know where you think he would have gone.'

I can see he is thinking. 'Why would I know?' And already he sounds calmer.

'You spend a lot of time with him. You talk to him. You have some kind of relationship with him, if he wants to go and not be found, where do you think he would go?'

'Does he have money?' He asks

I shake my head. His bank account hasn't been touched.

A line between his eyes deepens for a short while and then he smiles. 'I expect he is whoring.'

I turn and leave and on my way out. 'Make sure he stays restrained.' I need to know he is going to still be here when I want to talk to him again. As I walk away I can hear his shouts.

'What now? What did I do this time? Fuck you Agent Aaron Hotchner…screw you and your little boy!'

And I leave before I go back and do something I will regret.

-o-o-o-

'You can't take me there looking like this.' No reply. 'I'm injured I should be in hospital.' Nothing. 'I'm not going to do this.' Still nothing. 'You can't fucking make me!' A slap across the mouth. 'You bastard that's abuse. I can have you done for that. Look at me. You made me bleed again. I hate you. Bloody FBI bastard. Let me out of the car. You can't make me go there. I didn't do anything wrong. Take me back and let me explain properly. Why don't you ever bloody believe me? You think I'm a liar don't you? It wasn't me. I didn't do anything. I can't go there, my neck. You can't make me do this. I won't do what they tell me. Wait 'til my dad finds out. Fucking Boot Camp! You really aren't going to are you? You wouldn't would you? Are you going to be there too? Shit! Will they make me have a hair cut? I'm not wearing a sodding uniform. Are you listening to me? I'm not going to co-operate with them. I don't want to be in that place full of shits. Why there? I can be home schooled! Come on Johnson, just take me back and I'll explain things. They had it in for me. Are you going to take this thing off my ankle or are they all going to see it there too? Am I exempt from physical stuff?'

'Shut up,'

'Oh the nigger can talk.'

Another slap around the face.

'Don't fucking do that! I'm in pain. You are making it worse. You can't hit me. It's against the law.'

'Well I don't think anyone will notice do you?'

'What the fuck does that mean?'

'It means that all the time your peers are beating up on your pretty face I can to.'

'That's assault. I'll have you done.'

'I don't think they will take the word of one obnoxious little boy over the word of an Agent, do you?'

'So you are going to keep hitting me because some kids hit me first?'

'Looks that way.'

'You can't! I have a neck injury. You'll kill me.'

'Sam, I'll happily knock your whining little head from your shoulders if you don't shut the hell up.'

'Typical. The big guy takes it out on the kid.'

'You want me to lock you in the trunk until we get there? Because it's looking like a mighty good idea to me right now.'

'Well you cant. Cos that's really fucking against the law.'

'Yeah, well so is this.'

And a punch to the side of my head makes my head snap to the side and smack against the car window. I fucking want to cry it hurt so much. He really could have taken my head off. I can feel the scar burning.

But I keep quiet for now.

But not because … not because I think I might cry, (out of frustration) but because I don't feel like talking much now.

-o-o-o-

I've moved.

I couldn't stand being in my old apartment any longer. Too many memories. Good and bad. A constant bombardment threatening my ability to compartmentalise.

So, here I am. A small single story dwelling in a nice area where I don't have to see the looks on peoples faces when I arrive home with no baby. Really it is easier like this.

I have time off from work and much of it has been spent organising my new home. Now though I am sitting at the back window…the rear of the lounge. It looks over a small patio with a few pots in it which maybe one day I will fill with something more than the earth which is in them now. It's a window I can open like a door and I sit here for hours smoking too much and thinking of my Princess and that pink blanket and wondering where she is now and preying she is warm and loved.

There have been no tears. I won't permit that to happen. There is just a big void. I keep putting my hand to my stomach almost hoping it was all a nightmare and the baby is still there waiting to be loved by me and my heart hurts every time.

I feel safe though.

And she is safe from him. That was the most important thing. I had to get her away from Flanders.

-o-o-o-

I had enough money for a cab and hopefully enough to get back again. If I go back. A lot will depend on what happens next.

I've rung the bell, but no one has answered. There is a deathly silence from the other side of the door. No light creeping its way under it. Maybe the bell didn't work? I knock gently. She might be sleeping, or busy, or maybe she knows it's me and just doesn't want to talk. I try again a bit louder but still there is nothing. I will wait outside. I will wait for her where the cars park up. Either way, arriving or leaving I will catch her. So I turn and start to move away when the apartment next door opens its door and a tall guy in a suit stands looking at me. I can see the look he is giving me. I can see the distain on his face. The disgust. I can see the way his lip curls and his eyes narrow.

'What do you want?' He snaps at me.

Considering it was not his door I was trying to get to open I'm not sure why he thinks my answer will interest him. 'I'm looking for Prentiss….for Emily.' I look back to the still closed door just behind me.

'She moved. Now get out of here before I call security.' He takes a step forward and I look down at my scuffed feet.

'Do you know where to?'

'If I did I wouldn't give the address out to you. Now clear off.'

I don't look up at him again. I don't want to start a scene and so I start to walk away.

'And don't come sniffing around here again.' He calls out just before the door slams. Nice man.

She's moved. I don't want to call her, but I can see no other choice now and so I leave her apartment building and walk down the street. I don't know where I am going, but eventually I will find a public phone.

It's a quick call. It rings and rings and finally her voicemail kicks in. I'm not sure about leaving a message. It's not like she can call back, but I do anyway.

'_Emily, it's Reid. I wanted to talk to you about something……….'_

'_Reid! Spencer?'_

Her voice sounds uncertain. _'I'm sorry Emily. I really wanted to talk to you.'_

Suddenly I have no idea what to say.

'_Talk, talk to me Spencer. Where are you? Are you alright?'_

'_I'm fine. Just a bit tired.' _

I can hear her breathing at the other end of the phone. She is thinking.

'_Are you alone?'_

'_Err yes.'_

She rattles off an address to me and gets me to repeat it back. There is no way I can get that far out. I don't have enough money.

'_Emily, I don't have money for the cab.'_

'_Don't worry about that, I'll sort it this end.'_

I say a thank you and I replace the receiver. Now I don't know what to do. I didn't want her to know I was coming. I didn't want prepared answers and questions, but it's done now and I had no other way of finding her and so I flag down a cab and give them an address. Again I get a look and he says he wants to see my money first so I flash him a look or a couple of notes and he nods and lets me in the cab.

Do I really look that bad? I quickly finger brush my hair into some sort of order and then sit back and relax for the twenty minute journey. We pull up outside a nice looking home with grass out the front and a white front door. I can see that the lights are on even though the drapes are closed.

'Wait here.' I tell the driver and go to open the door just as the locks click into place. I don't touch the door handle I just sit and look. 'I need to get someone to pay the fare.' I tell him, but my gut instincts are telling me that this isn't going to be that easy.

'You had cash. You showed it to me.'

He doesn't turn to look at me, but glances in the rear view mirror.

'I don't think I have enough.' I tell him as I push my hands into my pockets and rummage around for the little bit of money I have.

'Show me.' He snaps at me. I can see in the reflection that he has a deep nasty unfriendly frown on his face.

I pull out the couple of notes and a handful of coins. It is everything I have. He takes it from me and counts it out.

'There's not enough.' He snaps again.

'I can get the rest. Let me out and wait here.'

The money disappears into his money pouch and he turns now to look at me. 'Get out of my cab. Get out and don't come back. You stink. You've made my cab stink. Just get the hell out.'

The door unlocks with a gentle click.

'I can get the rest.' I say as I begin to open the door.

'I don't want your stinking money. Just get out and be thankful I'm not going to beat the shit out of you.'

I quickly push the door open and slide out. The car is gone before I can hardly close the door. I stand and think about what just happened and stuff my hands into my now mostly empty pockets. I can't go to see her yet. I need to smoke first to calm my nerves. I'm still not sure she can help me, or will want to even if she is able, so I stand and smoke and look at the windows for a while before walking up to her door and ringing again on a door bell.

It is answered almost immediately and I never thought I would be so happy so see Emily. She looks at me and a puzzled look crosses her face.

'Reid? My god. Spencer…what the hell happened?'

I'm not sure what she means so I just shrug. She grabs my arm and pulls me into the small hallway. She is giving me the look I am so well used to now as she flicks the lock on the door and still holding onto my arm drags me down the hall and through a half opened door.

It's not what I expected.

I look and then turn back to Prentiss who is now closing and locking this door too and then back to look into the room I have just walked into.

'Hotch?'

My voice is not much more than a whisper.

* * *


	14. Chapter 14 Friends

Criminal Minds is not mine. The Flanders family are.

_"It's snowing still," said Eeyore gloomily. "So it is." "And freezing." "Is it?" "Yes," said Eeyore. "However," he said, brightening up a little, "we haven't had an earthquake lately." - A.A. Milne_

Friends

**A/N: language and racist comments (I realise this warning is a bit late, but thought I should add it anyway.)**

* * *

He is barely recognisable as the Reid we know. It is hard to tell at first if he has lost weight because of the chunky jacket he has on, but his face looks drawn and his skin is a sickly pale grey. The darkness around his eyes has increased and he has sores and blisters on and around his mouth. The smell…It's not possible to tell when he last washed but I have a feeling it was the shower he had at my house. His shaking hands run quickly through a mop of long greasy hair.

'Hotch?'

He looks at me then turns to look at Emily.

'Why did you call Hotch? I wanted to talk to you alone.'

He moves quickly towards the door in an attempt to get away from a situation he obviously didn't want to find himself in.

'She has orders…She had to call me.' I tell him and he spins to look at me.

'I wanted to talk to Emily. I have nothing to say to you.'

'Just sit and listen.' I move over to Emily's couch as she leaves the room and makes for the kitchen. 'Please Reid.' He takes a few cautious steps towards me then just stands with his hands at his side looking down now at the floor. I can't see his face due to the mess of hair shielding him. I sit but I don't take my eyes off him. 'Reid. Please.' He looks around the room and finds somewhere to sit not too close to me. It's a start. I can smell coffee brewing and can hear mugs clanking in the kitchen. Spencer sits and crosses his legs and wraps his arms tightly around himself still inside his jacket. 'I just needed to know you were alright.' I say quietly. He mumbles something back which I can't quite hear. 'I'm sorry, Reid look at me. I didn't hear you.'

His head snaps up and he looks at me directly in the eyes. 'I'm fine. I don't need you checking up on me. This was meant to be private between me and Emily.'

I nod. 'I realise that, but she had instructions to contact me if you contacted her. Don't blame Emily for my being here. You left with my car and my money Spencer then disappeared. We've all been worried.'

'I am a grown man Hotch. No need to be worried. I'm sorry about the car and money, but I was left with no options.'

'You could have stayed.'

He shakes his head. 'No - no I couldn't and you know why.'

I'm not totally sure I do know why. He must know that all I want to do is protect him. I would have done that. I could have done that. Now I wonder if what Flanders said to me was true.

'So where have you been? Do you need anything? Do you have enough money?'

He is still looking directly at me; right into my eyes. This is so unlike Spencer that I want to ask him to look away.

'I've been around. I have everything I need and I have a way to earn enough money to live off.'

My stomach knots uncomfortably at this comment. 'You could just go back to your apartment, or back to the shop. Use your money in the bank Spencer, you don't have to live like this.'

He seems to curl up tighter into himself and he gives his head a quick shake. 'No, no I can't go back. Not to either place and I can't stay with you. Where I am is fine. I'm OK.'

His eyes snap away from mine finally and he looks over at Emily who has just arrived back with a tray and three mugs. She places them down and sits on a chair opposite me. His eyes drift back to me again.

'I didn't come here to ask for charity, if that is what you think. I didn't come here to beg.'

'Spencer.' Emily's voice now. 'We have had no contact from you for weeks and you suddenly call to talk to me. So talk. What do you want?'

'I need to know. I need to know where Floyd is.'

I was really hoping that this wasn't the reason. I would rather he had come begging for money. I would rather he needed anything but this. Emily picks up her mug and sips on the coffee and I remain silent while I try to think of an answer which will satisfy him.

'He is in protective custody. It's not possible for me to take you to him.'

Slowly he unfolds himself and stands. 'I see. Thank you Emily and thank you Hotch, I'll be going then.' He turns to leave and as he does I stand and move towards him. I don't want him leaving. I don't want him going back out there and disappearing on us again. I need to keep him close and, and I'm not sure. I just know I can't stand the thought of not knowing where he is.

'Where are you going? You have a place to stay?' It looks like he has been sleeping rough. 'You can come back Spencer. Come back to my place. A warm bed. Some food?'

Still with his back to me. 'That worked out really well last time Hotch.' And he is walking to the door. My hand is grabbing his arm before I even realise I have moved.

'It will be OK.' I tell him.

'Let go of me. Just let me go. I'm not your pet to stroke and feed and water. Stop treating me like a child.' He turns to look at me and now I am this close I can get a closer look at the state he is in.

'If you don't want to be treated like a child Spencer, then stop behaving like one.' I snap before I can stop myself.

-o-o-o-

I hit him.

My hand is across the side of his face and I am looking at the shocked expression on his face.

I hit Hotch.

And because he wants to care for me. Because in his own way he loves me. He lets go of my arm and I take a step back. 'I told you to let go of me. I told you I didn't want to talk to you.' I would go back. I would go with him. I would accept what he is offering. The warm and the comfort and the love, but I can't. I can't do that. I will be putting him at risk. I know what is needed of me to keep people I love safe and that is not accepting Hotch's form of love and comfort. I move back further from him and closer to the door. I shouldn't have come here. I shouldn't be here. He will know. 'I just, just wanted to know where Floyd is.' I am at the door now and fiddling with the locks and my hands are shaking too much and sweaty and sliding over the latches in my panic to escape as a hand grabs my shoulder.

'Reid.'

It is Hotch again. Touching me.

I spin on him and this time it's my fist that tries to make contact with him. His arm blocks me and takes hold twisting and pulling until he has turned me easily and pushed me against the door with my arm wrenched up behind my back. I feel the blisters and scabs tear and break as I try to fight off the only person who wants to really help me.

'Reid! Stop.'

There is something in his voice. An order. A command. 'You're hurting me.' I say almost too quietly too be heard.

'Then calm down and stop.'

His body is pressing against mine now and I want to scream at him to go away. To not touch me, but I bite my bottom lip and rest my forehead on the door. 'Please. Let me go. Just let me leave.'

'No. I want you to come back and sit down and talk to us. Talk to us both. We need to know what the hell is going on.'

I force myself to relax and as soon as his hands respond by relaxing also I pull myself away and move back into the room. My hands I place over my forearms of my jacket in an attempt to both kill and feel the pain.

'Spencer.' Emily's voice is trying to be calm, but I can tell easily that she is not happy with the way things are going here. 'Please. We want to help.'

I'm trapped. I can't get out of the room and so I pace. 'I keep saying I don't want help. I don't need help.'

'Then at least tell us where you have been. Give us a way to contact you. I know you don't like it. I realise that, but we do care.'

They don't understand. They just don't understand. He will know. Taki will know. He will come here.

'Emily. Please. Just accept that I'm not going to tell you where I have been anymore than you are going to tell me where Floyd is. If you really want to help me. If that is your real agenda. If that is why you won't let me leave, then tell me where he is. He is the only one who can help me.

-o-o-o-

After I tried to grab the steering wheel he pulled over to the side of the road. He didn't talk to me. He didn't shout or slap me. The eerie silence was worse than the slappings. I never knew what he was going to do next when he went quiet on me like this.

The rest of the journey was taken with me cuffed to a security bar on the back seat. I screamed at him and kicked at the back of the chair and at the car doors but nothing happened expect I made my wrists hurt. It wasn't until we pulled up in a parking lot and he turned off the engine that he finally turned and spoke.

'You will do as you are told Sam, or you will be in a whole shit load of trouble and I might not be around to help you out.'

Might not be around?

'What?'

'Think about it.'

Was all he said as he got out of the car and moved to the door I was cuffed next to. Again the silence and again I'm sort of spooked out by it.

You see on one hand I hate this man to my very core. One the other though I know I can do what I want and the worst he will do is slap me and hang me from a hook. Here though, I don't know what is going to happen here and my face is already messed up, though that might go in my favour. They might take pity on the poor kid who has been brutalized by the big black bloke in a suit. He uncuffs my hands but stands in front of the door so I can't get out.

'Do I have to cuff you to my hand to get you to come with me, cos boy the next place on the list of places for you to go is Juvenile Hall and I don't think you want that.'

'Well I've not been accused of anything to send me to Juvie so screw you.'

'Drugs trafficking is more than enough. Now are you going to come quietly or do I have to cuff you and drag you to admissions by your hair?'

My entrance to this great establishment didn't go according to plan. He carried me with my hands cuffed in front of me as I kicked and shouted abuse at everything and everyone.

'Get your fucking nigger hands off me you bastard! You can't make me do this. This is against the law. I've not done anything wrong. I'll go back to school! I do home schooling. I'll stop screwing in the men's room. I didn't do fucking drugs trafficking! You think I'm a junky? You can't make me stay here! I'll get out. I'll be off as soon as you turn your fucking back. I'm not doing this! I'm not having my hair cut! I'm wont wear no shitty clothes they give me. I want to go home! Just give me one more chance. They molested me! Look what they did! I think I have concussion. I need to be in hospital. Johnson you bastard are you listening to me! Let me go! Put me down you motherfucker. I'm going to fucking kill you. You can't force me to do this.'

My head smacks against a door and suddenly we are inside.

'Sam Flanders.' I hear Johnson say as he drops me to the floor.

I scrabble to get to my feet. I've made my face bleed again and my nose is dripping something warm and my mouth and groin hurt. My hair has fallen over my face and stuck to the cuts and ick all over it.

'Ah the special one. We've been expecting you Sam.' A hard snappy male voice.

'Special? What the fuck is that meant to mean?' I get to my feet to be faced with something even more vile and huge than the monster who carried me in here. He doesn't talk to me though. He is talking to Johnson.

'If you'd like to sign here Agent Johnson and maybe take the cuffs off. He's going nowhere, I can assure you of that.'

But I still try. As soon as they are removed I am at the door trying to get out. I kick and shout at it and punch at it and swear at it and they just stand with arms crossed over their freaking chests and watch.

'When you're ready you can come with me.' The new bloke says.

So I turn to him and then I look at Johnson. 'You can't leave me here. You know what these damned places are like. A kid died down in Florida in a place like this. I've got an injury.' Now I look at the new guy. 'You do know about me don't you? You do know I can't do phys ed and I cant have my hair cut cos of my neck. The scar, I have to keep it covered.'

'We know all about you and your special needs Flanders. Now through that door and welcome to your new home.'

'Johnson.' I look at the guy who I suddenly really don't want to be without, but he shrugs.

'How many chances did we give you?'

'One not enough! Come on man, you can't leave me here.'

He walks over to me with a very serious look on his face, one of his "I am about to lecture you" faces and he puts a hand under my chin and lifts my face so I am looking right at him. 'I am going to leave you here. You are going to do as you are told, and Sam, remember how you got that scar in the first place. Remember how easily that happened and try to remember that it will happen again, only next time the job will be completed. You are here for the protection of the general public but also because Taki can't get to you here. You are safe as long as you tow the line. One step out of these grounds or away from me and that guy who slaughtered your kid sister and gutted your father will be on you before you can say "huzzah" so don't you even think about it. Do you understand me?'

This is the first time that Johnson being around has actually meant more that just keeping my arse out of trouble. He is making my life hell so that Taki doesn't have to. As long as everyone involved in my dads personal life is miserable or dead or in pain, then he will leave me alone. I give him a small nod.

'But…' And the hand tightens on my jaw.

'No buts…and no butts. Get through the door. Do as you are told. Stay out of trouble. They know I am here. They know about your freaking neck…the whole damned world knows about your neck. So just do it. Get it over with.' And a big black hand pushes hair off my face. 'Go.'

So he moves me around to face the door of doom and gives me a gentle push. 'Go and show them that you are a Flanders. Put all that angry energy into something else for a while.'

So it takes three big guys to hold me down while I scream at them and tell them to get their dirty hands off me and they chop my hair off. It's about two freaking inches all over now, but at least I didn't get the razor over my scalp. It looks like I fell asleep in front of a fucking lawn mower. My lovely freaking hair is gone. Then it's time for a shower and I refuse to take my clothes off. I have to say I was mildly surprised that they managed to get me stripped down naked so quickly. Something they've done before so it obviously meant I could call them perverts and child molesters and once I am standing there next to the shower cubical and they stand back with my clothes being placed in a big red plastic box they frown at what they see.

'What the hell happened to you?' One of them finally says?

I look down and see how well the bruises have come up on my pale skin and so I sniff and wipe my hand across my nose and shrug. 'Nothing fucking happened. I didn't bloody do anything wrong.'

'What happened to your neck?' Another voice and maybe a chance for some sympathy is arising. Problem is it's not the only thing arising so I turn to get in the shower.

'I have a neck injury. You have to be careful. It's fragile and crap. I could break my neck. Again.' There is no point in saying some Samurai bastard took my head off with a katana and my dad fixed it back on, cos they really wouldn't understand that and so I shower and wash the mess off my face and do other necessary things which get me shouted at and things like 'Get your hand off your dick you little shit.' Are said…so I wash what is left of my hair and step out to be greeted by a pair of combat pants and a Tshirt and some boots.

'Not fucking wearing that.' I tell them.

But I do. They seem just as competent at dressing a squirming kid as they are undressing them.

You have to understand; It is one thing behaving like a whining brat when it's just adults around. When it is kids though I have to give off an air of "I don't give a shit." So the second I am dragged through the door into where I am going to be spending my evenings for the next god knows how long my demeanour changes instantly. A quick glance tells me that there are ten other kids in here so I make up number eleven and they are all standing looking at me. A few are older and few younger and a couple I cant tell, but they all look like hard arsed bastards and so my squirming stops and I stand still and look back at them. A gentle push to my back gets me walking again and I'm taken to an empty bunk where there is a clean pile of bed linen on an upper bunk. I immediately want to complain about being in a top bunk and how I might fall out of bed and break my neck, but I keep my mouth shut and just look at it. I don't look at the others who are still standing in silence looking at me.

'This is Flanders. He is a delicate little thing. Be careful with him boys.' He still has his hand pressing onto my back so I turn around to face him.

'You want me?' I say with a smile?

He frowns. 'What?' He snaps back.

'Well you don't seem to be able to keep your hands off me. I was wondering if there was something you were after.' It's automatic. I don't even know I'm doing it, but my hands drift to where I got a kicking it seems only a few hours ago as his face moves in towards mine.

'You will learn to talk only when spoken to. You will keep your dirty little mouth shut. We know all about you and your special needs.'

I lick my lips and damnit his face it so close I can feel his spit sprinkling over my face so I lick his lips too.

When I wake up I'm in a small beige room with no windows and one big door, lying on the floor with my hands cuffed once more, only this time behind my back. My face has been bleeding again and my jaw feels like it's freaking broken.

I guess he didn't appreciate my tongue.

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	15. Chapter 15 Learning Curves

Learning Curves

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The thing is that I don't want you to feel sorry for him.

He is a violent rapist and murderer. We just can't find enough evidence to pin anything firmly on him and to be totally honest if we did then no judge in his own right mind would find this man competent for trial. I've decided to take some time off along with everyone else and use this time to try to delve deeper into the Flanders' mind. The adult Flanders. I don't care if I never have contact with his son Sam again. Vile child who just seems to be as revolting as he can to see how far he can push. His father though, this is a different kettle of fish all together. He fascinates me and I really do want to get to know him better.

The previous place he had been in was not somewhere he could stay. He is not fit for trial, even if we could find something to accuse him of and so they pumped him full of drugs and kept him restrained until finally they had the right mix. They told me that it was enough to knock out a herd of elephants and they really had no idea how he managed to stay awake, but they managed it and so this is where we are now. The State Hospital. Mental facility.

I am aware that the man is a liar.

I know what he has done and is capable of, but I want to be the one to give him the chance to tell me what the hell is going on. I want to travel through his twisted mind and discover what makes this man tick.

So here I am again. My voice recorder ready. Note book ready. Pencil ready and there he is lying on the bed like he always is with the blankets pulled up around his shoulders just staring into nothing.

I've been coming here every day and so far he's not talked to me. I've done all the talking. Trying to get him to react to something, but I don't know if it's the drugs or his attitude that's not allowed me to get an answer back yet.

'How are you today?'

I always say this to him as I sit on the floor against the wall next to his bed. He has a room. A room with bars at the window and a blanket on the bed and nothing else. No cupboards, no chairs, nothing on the floor but a slightly rubberised dark greyness. The walls are grey. The ceiling is grey. I don't know how they expect people to be able to heal in this kind of environment. Do these people even notice it?

'Rossi.'

I get my first response and I click on the recorder.

'Do you mind me being here?'

'Does it matter? I don't seem to have a choice.'

'We all have choices Floyd.'

'Right. I choose to leave.'

His voice is slightly slurred but still I am getting more out of him than I ever thought I would. 'It's not that simple.'

'No – it never is. What do you want?'

He pulls the covers up tighter around himself. He is feeling defensive. This is good. He has feelings there somewhere. 'Just to talk to you. To get to know you.'

'Ah, well that is a really bad idea. You don't want to get to know me.'

'Why not? What is it about you I wouldn't want to know?'

'Ask me straight questions Rossi. I will give you straight answers, as best I can, but I will want something in return.'

'I can't get you out of here.'

'That Agent David Rossi was not a question.'

I move slightly so I can see him better. Somehow he looks younger than when I last saw him. The medication seems to have taken that spiteful edge off his face. He just looks too young and too tired to have gone through what he has and to have such a hold over so many people.

'OK…Lets start with something easy. Where were you born?'

'Italy. Right way down south. Can't remember the name of the place.'

'You have an English accent though.' I'll keep asking these questions and try to figure out later how much was a lie.

'We travelled a lot. Moved around. Gypsies. Ended up in England for the best part of my life. Then I came over here by ship, then when I lost Anthony I went back to England. I guess my accent comes out more when I'm tired and stressed and fucking.'

'Anthony?' I've not heard this name before. 'A child?'

A snort of laughter. 'No, he was a fully grown man Rossi, you're not getting me on that.'

'A lover?'

'I don't want to talk about it.' And the covers get tighter around him.

'How long have you known Spencer?'

'I don't want to talk about that either.'

'What will you talk to me about?'

He looks at me and sighs. 'You need to do something for me.'

'Yes you said, but I told you I can't get you out of this place and I can't get your medication changed.'

He pushes up to his elbow then sits with his knees pulled up and his arms wrapped around his legs. 'I'm not asking you to. Not directly. Indirectly maybe.'

Slight concern crosses my mind at this sudden movement and lucidity, but I stay where I am and remain aware of the Kevlar vest I have on under my jacket.

'Carry on.' I say.

'Not when you have the machine running. This is for you and me only Rossi. You can't talk to people about this.'

I nod and press the "off" button and place the recorder in my pocket. He nods at me and seems almost to relax slightly and lean a bit forward. His voice now is quieter.

'Have you been into the bathrooms here? Have you seen what they are like?'

I shake my head wondering where this is going.

'There are mirrors on the wall. Unbreakable. I know. I tried.'

I nod and let him carry on.

'Spencer is in trouble. Hotchner and Emily will be if they're not careful. Deep trouble. Further down than I can reach from here.'

'What sort of trouble Floyd?'

'The sort you get into when you get in the way of Taki and his task. Now, his job is to break me. That was what he was told to do and to do that he has to make everything I care about go away. That's what he does. That is why he took Sam and Rosa. That is why Spencer is doing what he is doing. He is protecting me from Taki.'

I open my mouth to say something but he lifts and hand to silence me.

'Just listen. Don't let Hotchner get to Spencer. He will only destroy them both. I need to talk to someone. I need to make a deal and get this contract stopped.'

He waits now for me to say something.

'You need me to talk to someone on your behalf?' I realise now that this man is completely delusional, but whatever it is he is thinking he thinks it is all very real.

'No, you can't. I have to do it myself. I have to go back and sort this fucking mess out and _that_ is where you can help me.'

'I told you Floyd, I can't get you out.'

'You don't need to Rossi. You just need to get me a blade. Something I can cut with.'

'Cut?' I move slightly again, only this time so I can move back away from him quickly if I need to.

'Me. I need to. It's complicated but it's the only way I can get back there. There is nothing here I can use. I've looked, I've tried. I can't do this alone. I need your help.'

'You are asking me to assist you in killing your self so Hotch, Prentiss, and Reid will be safe from someone else?'

'I knew you'd understand.' A smile crosses his face and so now I am really concerned. This man never smiles. He sneers. He smirks, but he never smiles.

Slowly I get to my feet and I can see he is watching my every move. 'The medication you are on.'

He raises an eyebrow at me. 'We all have to play the game Rossi. It is all just one big game and there are rules we all have to follow sometimes and they might seem unfair and sometimes it might hurt like fuck but we still play the game. However all the time there is room to cheat then why not?'

'So you could just get up and walk out of here?'

'No because there is some bastard out there waiting to gut me again and if he doesn't get me then he will get Hotchner or Prentiss. Spencer I believe is playing by the rules, but he needs me to help him. I need to do this my way. I have to go via the back door so to speak and get some of the rules changed.'

'Back door? Explain. I can't help you when you talk to me in riddles.'

'I have to talk to who arranged this. I have to call it off.' He moves now so he is sitting on the edge of the bed his hands resting on his knees. 'It's complicated Rossi. You wouldn't understand.'

I move back towards the door. 'Try me.'

'Fine, but you look like you're going to run out on me.'

'I'm listening.' I can tell that whatever meds they have been giving him have had or are having no effect on him right now. I feel strangely vulnerable with no gun in my holster and only a corridor full of lost souls behind me.

'I need to go back and to do that I have to, err, sort of die, but not actually.'

'No.' I move back some more. 'I'm not helping you to kill yourself.'

'But I won't actually die. I'll come back. I always come back. I need to do this for Spencer.'

'Absolutely not.' I am at the edge of the door.

'Think about it. Think how you will help Reid. He won't have to whore anymore.'

I turn and walk away. I am ready for him to leap at me and stop me, but he doesn't. He lets me go and I am left wondering if I should report this conversation to the staff. Tomorrow. I will come back tomorrow and see if he will talk again. I need to call Hotch and talk to him about Spencer though. We need to know how much he knows of what is going on. I don't know how Floyd knows, but he seems pretty sure that Spencer is in need of assistance.

-o-o-o-

This place is sweltering hot, but I don't want to remove my jacket. They will see my arms and it will be yet another reason for them to make a fuss. I pace and probably look agitated and I am. I want to just get out of here.

'Out there somewhere.' I suddenly say. 'Is someone monitoring all of this. He knows where I go. He knows what I do. He knows everything. Sometimes I see him in the shadows watching me, but he watches you too. He is likely right outside now waiting, I really have no idea. The thing is, I can't stay and Hotch, you can't protect me. You know that. You saw what happened. That was just a warning. Next time it will be Emily, or god help us Jack. I don't want that. I have to stay doing what I am doing to keep things from falling apart. Until Floyd sorts this, I am going to carry on. It's for the best. I know the rules. I know the game. I need to keep playing it.'

I see now that Hotch and Emily are just staring at me and in my pacing I have removed my over warm jacket and dropped it to the floor. Quickly I wrap my arms around me, but I think it's too late.

'All part of the game. As long as I am miserable then he is happy. As long as I am unhappy then Floyd is and ultimately that is the point of the game.'

'What game?' Emily's voice sounds smooth and calm against my ragged speedy banter.

'This. This what is going on. You, and Hotch, and everything, it's all part of what he needs. Tell me where Floyd is. I need to see him. I need to know what to do next. I only have half of the game laid out for me. I only know what to do up to a certain point then I am off the map.'

'Floyd's game?' Her voice is still calm and I am looking around the room now for unknown shadows. Damnit I need to get out of here. I need to go back. I need, I need to do more to appease him. He won't like that I've been here.

'No! Not Floyd. Have you not listened to a word I have said? Where is Sam? Is Sam having a good or bad time? Emily have you been having fun recently? It's a game! And I've broken the rules. I have to go.' I bend down and snatch my coat up off the floor and slide my sore arms back into the sleeves.

'Taki is out there?' Hotch finally says.

'Yes! Isn't that what I've been saying? His job, his contract is Floyd. To get Floyd he has to get anyone close to him. I am pretty much the closest after his children. He's removed Rosie from the picture and I think Sam is not having the best time of his life. Keep it that way. Keep Sam safe. Keep yourselves safe…let me leave.'

'We need to be able to contact you.'

Again Hotch's voice.

'The shelter down near the river. North Side. I go there sometimes, but please if you care about me, don't come looking for me.'

Emily suddenly jumps up and runs to the kitchen and Hotch is just staring at me. 'You have cab fare to get home?' I shake my head slowly.

'I can walk.'

He pulls out a note from his pocket. 'Please Spencer. Just get some food and stay safe.'

I look at the money and I know I can't take it. I know he will know but it is so tempting. I snatch it from Hotch's hands and it feels good. Honest money. I stuff it quickly into my pocket, but I have no intention of spending it on cab fare.

'Reid.' Emily is holding out a tube of something for me. 'For your mouth. Just some salve. And you could try it on your arms.' And again I know I shouldn't take it from her but I do anyway.

'Thank you.' And it disappears into my pocket.

-o-o-o-

I watch him leave the house.

There are a few things I can do now.

I could go and re educate one of the Flanders clan. I could wait for Hotchner either to leave and follow or so I can gain access to Prentiss easier, or I could show Reid that this game isn't one you can cheat on when the games master is watching your every move.

I go for the latter. He has his hands in his pockets and his head down as he walks down the street. I don't like that he went there. I don't this one bit.

I follow for a while. I don't want to be outside the house when I let him know I am here, so for half an hour I follow him. I can smell him. I can smell not only the dirt and decay but the deep inside filth he now is and it makes me happy. Not so happy that I will allow him to think he got away with this little stunt.

He is taking a short cut through a small grassed over area. Trees running along one side and a small river along the other. It's dark. There is no one around. Perfect spot.

He lets out a funny little gasp when I step out in front of him.

'Hello Dr Reid.'

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	16. Chapter 16 Near the End

Near the End

* * *

I didn't sleep. Which thinking about it now might have been an error cos now I'm tired as crap, but I'm not going to let these bastards know that.

They come and get me and tell me to stand and when I don't they drag me to my feet and push me against the wall. Johnson is with them. I think to make sure my head didn't fall off or anything cos he looks far from happy. I would say something to him but he has on an expression which I think means "shut up." I see that expression a lot and I'm used to it now, but I know that it means business so I don't talk. I stand with my hands still fastened behind my back and lean on the wall.

'Stand up straight.' I am told by some uniformed creep, so I do. I want to feel my face because it feels tight and painful and I'm sure some of the stitches have come away, but I can't so I just stand there and look around me.

'Did you sleep well?' Sarcastic fucker.

'Piss off.' I tell him and he reaches forward and grabs my shoulder.

'Move it. Get out. I don't have all day.'

I am gently pushed out of the room and down a corridor then through a white door into what looks to be an infirmary. At last they realise I am injured and need medical treatment. They push me down into a chair and when I look around I see that Johnson has gone.

'Where is Johnson?' I want to know.

'Cant remember telling you to talk. Sit still and shut your yap.'

A girly nurse in a white frock comes over with a trolley covered in stuff and she pulls a wet wipe thing out of a pack and looks at me. 'This might sting a little.' She tells me and she was right.

'Fucking shit!' I yell out and try to get off the chair. It feels like she's tried to wash my damned face in acid or something. 'What the fuck?! Get it off me!'

A big guy walks over and pushes me back down again. 'Sit and shut up.' He says.

'But it fucking hurts!' I reply.

'Do I look like I give a damn?' He says.

'You can't do this! It's against the human rights act. This is torture. You can't get away with hitting me and burning my damned face off.'

'Yes we can. Sit down.'

I would have hit him. I would have floored him in one. I would have ripped his balls off with my bare hands. I would have gouged out his eyes, if my hands were not still behind my back, so I look for compassion from the nurse.

'Don't put that fucking shit on my face again or I'll….'

'You'll what exactly.' The big guy asks.

And then stands behind me with hands on my shoulders to stop me jumping up again.

'I need to clean the wounds so that they don't get infected.' She says to another wipe she has in her hand. 'I'm sure it hurts but that really isn't my problem young man. You shouldn't have got yourself in this state in the first place.'

They called in someone else when I started to physically protest this loving treatment from Nurse Bitch and I ended up on my back on the floor while they stood and sat on me to keep me still.

'Damn he's a wriggler.' One says. 'Not as hard as he likes to think he is.' Another says…but they're not the ones accused of shit they didn't do. They're not the ones with the freaking neck injury. They're not the ones having their face molested by a stinking whore.

I shouted for a long time. I shouted abuse and I called for Johnson (much to my shame) and nothing happened except they taped something over my mouth to keep me quiet. This really isn't going according to my plan of action. I don't think the kids are going to look at me with too much respect with my hands held back still and now my mouth sealed shut. I want to tell them that they can't do this to me, but they have and there seems little I can do about it now. I want the nurse to at least put something cool on my face but she doesn't and when they let go of me I am on my feet and staring at them. In silence.

I would have been silent anyway. I had no intention of saying anything to them. I know when to keep quiet and when to protest. They could just remove the tape and I'd be quiet, but of course I can't tell them this.

They guide me back out of the room. A hand is securely on my shoulder now…fingers digging in. I don't know where the hell they think I'll go if they let go of me. Not like I can even call for help now. Down a corridor with a row of doors on one side and high up windows on the other. They are all closed but I'm sure I could squeeze out of one of those windows given the chance.

Now I am pushed through another door and into what seem like a reception or office. The guy holding my shoulder spins me around and looks at me.

'Right. Your first full day here and so you get to meet the guy in charge. You will speak only if spoken to and you will answer his questions. Do you hear me?'

I nod…but it's a relief cos this means they'll have to remove the tape. But the hand is back on my shoulder and someone is knocking on a door. A muffled 'Enter' is heard from the other side and the door is opened and I'm shoved into the room.

'Stand still behind the line.' I'm told and then a hand touches my face and rips off the tape.

'Fucking shit!' I shout and turn to the guy with the tape now in his hand. 'Do you know that could have killed me? What if I'd been sick? I could have died! You stupid or something? I would have been like all those other kids bastards like you kill ever year in shit hole places like this! I'm going to fucking report you for abuse. You won't get away with treating me like this. I've not bloody well done anything wrong!'

And my answer is a slap around the head and a shout from behind the desk which is placed the other side of the line I'm meant to stand behind.

'QUIET!'

The sudden voice makes me jump just slightly and I turn to look at him. Authority doesn't scare me. 'Did you see what they did to me? Look my hands are still behind my back! You can't do this to me. I'm just a kid!'

Another slap around the head.

'Stop fucking hitting me!'

And that was the end of my chatter for now. I stand and look at the guy behind the desk, but I keep my pissed off face on. My face which still hurts.

'Sam Flanders. You are here under the protection of the FBI it would seem. It also says here we are to call you "Sam". You are a substance abuser and a sexual deviant and we are going to straighten your dirty little mouth and arse out.'

I shrug.

'We are to be careful of your neck. Therefore some of the physical programs have been altered to suit your delicate needs. I don't know how the other little scum bags will think of this special treatment Sam. You need to tread very carefully. This isn't high school. You can't get away with giving blow jobs for other favours here.'

'I didn't. That's a fucking lie!'

This time it wasn't a slap around the head I got. It was a spiteful cane across the back of my legs and you know what? I took it like a man. I would have ripped it from his hands had mine not _still _been behind my back.

'I didn't ask for your opinion Sam. I'm telling you. You will do what you are told to do because we can make your comfy little life one that feels like hell. And we can get away with it.'

'Agent Johnson won't allow it.' I snap.

'Agent Johnson isn't here is he? I can't see him.'

'I'm under FBI protection. You can't abuse me.'

'Yes I can. And yes I will. We just have to make sure we don't hurt your poor little neck.'

He slides a bit of paper across the table. That is your timetable. Any complaints you will speak to anyone but me. I'm not interested.' He looks over at the guy standing next to me. 'Un-cuff him and take him to his room. I don't want to have to see that face again this week.'

At last!

My hands are free. And I really so much want to do something I know will get me into trouble, so I snatch up the bit of paper and screw it up and stuff it in my pocket and as I am pushed out of the door I want to shout "fuck you arsehole" but I don't. I am too happy that my hands are finally free.

-o-o-o-

I could try to run.

I could call for help.

I could beg him not to hurt me.

But I know it will have no effect, so I just stand and look at him.

'That was really stupid you know.' He sounds happy.

I don't say anything. I am trying to prepare myself for what I think is coming next. Which knowing him could be anything.

I hear the whisper of the blade leave the sheath and he is still looking at me and smiling.

'Do you want to die quickly or slowly? I'll give you the choice because Dr Reid I am bored with you. You have become an annoyance.'

I take a step back from him. 'I just wanted to know where Floyd is. I didn't ask for any help. I didn't tell them where I was. I didn't even know Hotch was going to be there.'

'You are begging for what? It to be quick? Over in once slice to that grimy neck of yours? Or slow? Maybe a few smaller cuts. You decide.'

'I'm not begging. You will do what you need to do. There are no making deals or talking around a psychopath. Just get it over with Taki. Play your game and leave me.'

He nods at me. 'You have a good point. I don't think you are the sort to go down on his knees.' And he chuckles. 'Here.' And his hand is holding something out to me. 'Take it. You'll need it later.' He moves closer and pushes something into my hand. I look down to see a small very sharp looking knife. I glance back up into his eyes and frown. 'I said you decide. I don't care, but you do it before sun up or I go and tear Emily Prentiss and Aaron Hotchner into tiny bits and I know you wouldn't like that.'

I feel his hands run down the sides of my jacket. Almost gently. Almost like he is asking me for something and then he takes a step back.

I look down at the knife again and then slide it into my pocket. I knew this time would come eventually, but somehow I was hoping he would just do it and get it over with. When I look up again he has gone. I can still smell him. I can still smell that odd spicy smell he carries with him in the same way Floyd has his special smell, only Taki's doesn't instil trust and calm.

-o-o-o-

I know what is going on.

If Taki thinks he can win this game then he has to think again. I pull the covers up around me to block out the sounds of the crazy people and close my eyes. I can't actually see Spencer, but I can feel him. I know what he is thinking. I know what he plans on doing and this is going to be fabulous. It really is a grand plan I have forming in my head now. I just need to stay with it and block other people getting in my head and spoiling it.

I know Rossi won't get me what I need, but it was worth asking. Always worth trying to do something the easy way first and if that doesn't work then go all out and try the most complicated thing you can think of. HAHA!

So I snuggle down and stay hidden in the back of his head and wait for the right time. Now…the only problem I can see with this might be that I am still having to metabolise all the crap they inject into my system every day, but have been cheating there too and allowing them to think it's working just fine when it's having no effect in the slightest. Almost no effect. I think I actually fell asleep once. Not for long, but enough for me to know that my mind is maybe not what it should be. Or where it should be. Or something.

You're confusing me.

I need to stay here in the darkness at night, now, and let Spencer carry on. I could contact him, but I'm loath to do that because I don't want him to go mental on me and demand to know where I am. It doesn't really matter where I am. It is really best I stay put for now. Anyway, he is almost home. I had a crawl around and he seems pretty numb to it all and the situation. He's come to accept it. My babes. It will be OK though. You'll see.

It is quieter outside now. Most of the loons are sleeping or gone into lock up for the night and all I can really hear now is the clanking of the heating system cooling down for the night and the buzzing the night lights out in the corridor make. I'm sure later on it will all liven up again, but now, Spencer, now would be a good time.

So I place that idea in his mind and at the same time I take on all he has physically. Damnit he's in a mess, but that's OK he won't notice his sores dying away as mine build up. The gods only know what he has been doing! Well the gods and me. I know.

I lie in the darkness running my thumb nail along the inside of my wrist.

_It's OK Spence. Do it. I'm here_

I tell him. I think he hears me but doesn't really understand that he is. He has voices in the back of his head constantly. Mine is just another familiar voice giving him some encouragement.

_It won't hurt you. I'll take it. Pass it over to me babes. I need it. _

Thing is I know he'll do it.

I know he has reached the end now. There is no place else for him to go from this point now is there? Maybe I should give him a small push in the right direction.

_Just slice into the flesh Spence. I'm here. It'll be OK. You'll be doing what he wants then he'll come looking for me. Just do it. What else is there for you now? Selling your arse? I know that's not too much of a new direction for you babes, but do you really want to be that? Well you already are that maybe, so really how much lower can you go? Look at the mess you are in? Slice and be done with it. No one will know and it'll be over real soon. Lie down on your side and close your eyes and just do it and I'll be waiting here for you. Come on babes for fucks sake kill your self and help me out for once._

-o-o-o-

I pull the car up in the drive way and just sit there. Maybe for an hour. I'm not sure. I don't know what to make of what happened earlier. Spencer was so out of it and wrong that it was like a different person. I've already decided that I will go and look for him. I will search out the shelters and find him. My stomach is twisting in knots of anxiety thinking of what he looked like and how far he has fallen.

It is Flanders' fault. I've seen what he did to him and now I have removed Floyd I might be able to reach Spencer. Today wasn't the right day.

Finally I realise it has turned cold and the windows in the car have steamed up. Maybe if I had got straight out of the car I would have seen something. Maybe I would have seen a shadow at least through the windows, but I was too caught up in my thoughts and maybe would still have been.

I get out and the car beeps as it locks and I am nearly at the front door when someone puts a hand on my shoulder. At first, my initial thought is that it is Spencer again and I spin around.

'I am returning this. He won't be needing it.' And a small cellophane bag is thrust into my hands. I glance down at it and back t the Samurai standing there and the back down to the bag.

'What have you done?' The fear running through my body is indescribable. I feel my hand going for my gun as he answers me.

'Nothing. I haven't done a thing.' And he smiles at me. 'But he'll still not be needing that' and he gestures at the bag. 'And you'll not be needing that either.' He looks at my weapon pointing at him. 'I don't think I've done anything you need to get so aggressive over. I'm just returning this stuff to you. Oh, and don't bother going looking for him Agent Hotchner, it is much too late for that now.' He steps back from me still glancing between me and the gun and the bag in my hand.

'What are you talking about?'

'Job is almost done Agent Hotchner. Almost. Just a bit a tweaking and then I'm free.'

I lower my gun but keep my eyes firmly on him. 'What have you done to Reid?'

He shakes his head and smiles even broader. 'Nothing. I did nothing. I think you will find he did it all on his own. Alone in some rat infested basement, surrounded by used condoms and discarded needles. A fitting place for it don't you think?'

* * *


	17. Chapter 17 Going Back Home

Going Back Home

**a/n: sorry if this has been confusing. I needed everyone in the right place at the right time…and NO ONE would co-operate! These damned ppl have minds of their own…. Pbxox**

* * *

So my first day.

I discover we still have to do school, which is a bitch, but it's not really that much of a problem. Not like I'm thick or something. I wanted to show these other kids that they don't mess with me, but I've already been dragged off into isolation and my face is covered in sores and scabs and bruises, so maybe I need a new approach and this will be here in math. I am shoved without ceremony into the classroom and told to stand in front of the tutor's desk, so I go and find and empty seat and ignore the instruction. It's not my intention to get into more shit. It is my intention to show that they can't keep ordering me around. Therefore two guys come and drag me from my place and stand me in front of the desk where I should have been. This is OK. The other kids are cheering and being told to be quiet.

'Go and find a seat.' I am told and I want to laugh cos wasn't that what I already did? Oh well. I go back and sit down.

I am sure I get a glimpse of Johnson looking in the window but I'm not sure. What I am sure about is that he is right outside that door waiting to hang me from a hook.

'This is Sam.' the math tutor says. 'It says here Sam that your grades at your previous school had been good. Let's see if you can keep it up.'

I so desperately want to react to that remark that I am going to freaking burst. My hands are happily resting on the warmth of my lap as he carries on.

'It also says here that you have a problem with your hands, so can you keep them where I can see them?'

It was a question.

'No sir. I will keep them right here.' I tell him. An honest answer.

'You will put both of your hands on the desk Sam, or I will nail them there.'

THAT was an order. And so I glance at the window half expecting Johnson to be there but he's not. My hands do go to the desk though.

He introduces me properly to the rest of the kids and I listen to imaginary music in my head and ignore it all. This is boring. I am going to die of fucking boredom. A sudden bang makes me look down at the desk where a pile of books have been placed. They are all ones from my previous school. All easy shit. I look at them for a while then look up at the tutor.

'What are they for?' and a snorting laugh from behind me.

'You will be needing them.'

'You are mistaken. I don't need these.' I push them to the edge of the desk but I don't let them fall. The back of my legs are still stinging and I can do without another helping of that.

That it seems is the end of the conversation so I go back to listening to music in my head and ignoring what is going on around me. It's really the only way I will keep my damned hands on the desk top. I don't want them to end up behind my back via my lap cos I'll be needing them tonight when they can't see where my hands are.

'Sam!'

I hear my name and so I look up and see everyone is looking at me.

'What?'

'There is an equation on the board. You have half an hour to give me the correct answer. The rest of you carry on with what you are meant to be doing.'

So I look up at the board and a little frown is on my face for about five seconds and then I put a hand up and wave it at him.

'Just do it Sam.'

'I did.'

'You did what?'

'Worked it out. The answer is 5.778.'

He looks at me and then up at the board and then back at me again.

'Stand up.'

So I do.

'Show me how you worked that out so quickly.' He holds out one of those special pens you use on interactive boards which is what this fine school room has and so I walk over and take it and move to the board and there I show him how I worked it out.

'Of course,' I say to him when I write the final bit down. 'you could have missed out this.' I turn back and start making adjustments to the calculation. 'It's redundant because you repeat it in reverse down here.' And I cross another bit out. 'It was just there to confuse I think. No one would normally work it out like that. Let me show you.' I click up a new page on the board and write it out again. 'You see you have the same calculation but using a far simpler method. Your way is a total waste of time.' I hand the pen back to him. 'Can I sit down now?' I see the class is all sitting in silence looking at me but I ignore them and ignore this ignorant tutor and go back to my place feeling finely smug that I am a freak.

I'll skim the rest of this boring day, cos that's all it was really. School. And I behaved and did what I was told. When it was lunch time Johnson came for me. I'm not permitted to eat with the others after what happened before. I sit in a small warm office and have a cheese sandwich and there is a big hook on the wall so I don't really say much to him, but in a funny way it's a comfort to know he is still around. I know normally at these places there is no contact with the outside world, but hey I'm a special case.

'We are giving you a chance Sam.' He suddenly says. 'To sleep with the others kids tonight. In your own bed.' I look up at him. I had stupidly assumed I would be anyway. 'If you behave and I know you can, then you can stay there. Any nonsense from you and you will have to spend a week in isolation when it's lights out.'

'Oh fine! You accuse me of doing stuff before I've even wondered what to do yet! Way to go Johnson putting ideas into my head. Have I not behaved all freaking day so far?'

'No.'

'What the fuck do you mean by that? I have been the model student!'

'You are a loud mouthed smart arse little shit.'

'Who doesn't like cheese sandwiches.' And I push the plate away from me. 'You are really never happy with me are you? You don't like me saying what I feel. You don't like me when I wont do school crap…you don't like it when I do! What do you want from me?'

'I want you to behave like a normal kid. I want you to stop showing off and calm down.'

'Can I go now?' I suddenly don't want to see him. I don't want to ever see him again. I hate him! 'I hate you!' I shout as I stand. 'You just don't like me do you?'

'You are right there Sam. I don't much like you. I'm here doing a job I get paid for. Believe me I'd sooner be cleaning the toilets than minding a spoiled spiteful brat. Yes you can go.'

I slam the door behind me and walk down to the bathrooms. Really deep down I thought he liked me. This has pissed me off and someone will pay for it.

That someone happened to be the lad in the bunk under mine.

It was night time you see and I'd spent an hour of free time alone sitting on a chair in the corner of our common room. No one talked to me and I didn't strike up a conversation with anyone.

Then some kid comes over to me and kicks me in the leg for no freaking reason, so I am standing looking at him in a flash and I'm not happy with him one bit.

'I'm Porter.' He tells me. 'And I am in charge of the crap that goes on around here. You're a smart one and so you will do my homework or I'll beat the shit out of you.'

'Certainly.' And I smile. 'If you suck me off.'

He ignores me and drops a pile of books and papers on the floor next to the chair I'd been sitting on. 'Do it and your life will be more comfortable.'

'And my dick will be happy too.' I tell him and sit down again.

I can tell he is going to be trouble, but I don't do the homework for the whole room and I don't get my pleasure either. But…

There is a reason I told you all that.

That night he is a bastard. He kicks and punches the bottom of my bed for hours. I really need to sleep cos I didn't the day before and right now I am actually feeling freaking annoyed and out of my head tired. So I wait. I bide my time. I don't need to sleep much, but I do need some. I wait until he has stopped. I wait until the room is in silence and then I slide the top half of my body out of my bunk. I don't even have to get all the way out to do it! It was so easy cos his head is there and I am looking down at his face as his eyes suddenly open and my hands reach down and "crack". I slide back under my covers and smile.

But the smile doesn't last long.

Something bad happened.

I can feel it.

And I think I might have been sleeping.

I must have been….cos I woke up screaming.

-o-o-o-

The first thing I do is check the small bag I was given. It contains the money I gave Reid. The tube of ointment Prentiss gave him and a pack of condoms, so I know partly what he was saying was true. He has seen Reid. I just don't know about the rest of what he said. I go indoors quickly and lock the door behind me and pick up the phone to call Dave. I know he has been visiting Flanders. I need to know what information he has. If any.

His voice sounds sleepy. I must have awoken him. Time has gone so fast. I didn't realise how late or early it had got. He tells me of the conversation he had with Floyd and how odd he was acting.

'We need to go back now. Something is going on with Reid and he is the only one who knows where he is.' I am talking to fast in my panic to get all the words out. I arrange to meet Dave at the hospital and then I call Prentiss. 'I am sending someone over to keep an eye on you. I don't like the way things are developing.' I tell her after I fill her in on the rest of it. My next call is to get someone over at her place ASAP, and then I am back to the car and going off to meet up with Rossi and hopefully Flanders.

-o-o-o-

I play with the knife for a while. I know this is the only thing to do now. I messed up. I shouldn't have gone there and I can't be responsible for what Taki does to Aaron or Emily. I have found an old blanket which I drag over to the corner of the old dark basement and I sit on a pile of old cardboard boxes and just think for a while. There are too many voices calling me in my head today. I don't seem to be able to quieten them down today. Too much. It's all too much. I've become a worry and burden to people and I never intended that to happen. I just wanted to live a quiet life with someone I thought loved me in his own odd way, but he's gone. Gone from my life and from my mind. I tried calling him. Linking in like we used to do often, but there is nothing there. They say he is in protective custody, but Floyd wouldn't do that. He wouldn't just leave me unless he wanted to.

I'm lying down now with the blanket covering most of me I think and I still have that little knife in my hand and in my head a little bit of encouragement. I draw the blade gently over my wrist and a tiny bit of blood appears. Only a couple of little drips and I lie there in the gloom and can just about see it via the strange light coming through the window. I don't want to fail them; I can't and so I take a deep breath and it is done. I wanted, I had intended on doing both wrists, but my fingers are going into strange spasms and the knife drops from my hand and rolls slides away into darkness.

I just hope it was enough. I hope that I can close my eyes now and sleep and never have to wake up again.

-o-o-o-

I lie there for a while before I see the small drops of blood appear on my wrist. I feel all the nerves in my body tingling with joy that Spencer listened to me, even if he didn't realise it. I was hoping for more than one cut, but this is good enough. It's pouring out in lovely gushes of red fluid. The temptation to lick at it is almost too much to take so I move my face closer to it and just inhale the sweet wonderful smell as my life – as you know it – slides out of my body and onto the mattress, where is gets sucked in to the sheeting making a fine mess. I need to keep it covered. I can't let someone see this.

And I feel myself drifting.

And I feel everything here slide away and the familiar darkness I've been asking for takes over.

-o-o-o-

The alarm was rung in the room Sam was sleeping in. Everyone was awoken by his screams. Johnson came belting into the room like a demon from hell in pyjamas closely followed by the officers in charge of night watch. The kids were standing staring at Sam who by now was on the floor thrashing and screaming 'NO NO NO' over again. Johnson moved in and sitting on the floor grabbed him and pulled him close and held him as the convulsions started.

'Get a fucking ambulance!' He shouted as people ran in all sorts of directions trying to do what you should do when you don't panic that one of your kids is dying on the bedroom floor during his first proper night.

No one noticed how Porter didn't react at first. No one said much about that until Smith moved over and kicked him.

'Get up.'

And a yelp of horror and more running around as they realised there were two disasters kicking off at the same time.

'Sam. I'm here.' Johnson said as Sam suddenly lay very still in his arms. 'Sam?'

But his eyes stared out into nothing as his heart pounded too fast and his breaths got shallower until they stopped. A final jerk and he lay motionless.

-o-o-o-

The bitch is that when you do something like this you can sometimes drag other people you are bonded to along with you. It's like a big long string of beads. You are the head…the clasp, the bit that holds it all together and without you the beads will fall away and disappear and be forgotten. Likewise if you decide to go somewhere dark and gloomy and crap like then all the little bits you have bonded to get pulled along too. Some protesting. Some come willingly, but the likelihood is that they will follow.

So what I am trying to say here in a very elaborate way is that Spencer and Sam and Rosa too are all bonded with me. The bonding I have with Aaron and Emily is not the same. It's not so complete and so they don't get pulled back into hell with me. Rosa is but a baby still and so her hell is of a different nature. I think she'll end up with not getting her diaper changed when she demands it.

Spencer and Sam though, I'm very much afraid, I take with me on this trip. I'll probably have to return for Agent Aaron Hotchner. I shall see what transpires. I will get the contract changed though and I will sort this mess.

See…

…you misunderstand me a lot of the time.

I'm not such a bad guy.

* * *


	18. Chapter 18 The End

The End

**a/n: a little bit if slash**

* * *

It started with a small echo in my head. Almost like I was getting feedback from somewhere, but the closer I got to the car the louder it got. Someone shouting.

I looked around me thinking it was coming from somewhere else. I don't have time for this now! I need to meet Dave and sort out things with Floyd and then find Spencer.

But the voice is persistent and as I reach the car I am no longer hearing some strange noise, now it is a loud and clear.

'NO NO NO'

over and over again.

And I recognise the voice.

Sam?

Something has happened to Sam? I feel the nosebleed. I feel the blood trickle out of my nose as my head feels as though it something inside of it has exploded. I fall to my knees trying to hold onto the side of the car to stop myself from going down, but there is nothing I can do as the sudden pain in my chest causes me to gasp and moan and I can feel the wet grass on the side of my face. I wasn't even aware that I was lying down, but I am looking across the grass back at the house and my heart is doing crazy things in my chest which it shouldn't do. As I lie on the damp ground I am sure I can hear voices I recognise, but it is all too far away now as I slip slowly into darkness.

-o-o-o-

I am standing barefoot and a slightly squashy surface. It is dark. So dark. Yet all around me is a strange light. All I can see is me. There doesn't seem to be anything else here except for a sound of beating wings in the distance that I remember from somewhere at some time. I look at my arms which show no signs of the damage I'd been doing to them. A deep breath as I wrap my arms tightly around myself and walk in a slow small circle to see if I can see anyone else. He is about a foot away from me. Just standing looking out into the darkness. Not saying anything not acknowledging that he knows I am there. His head is slightly to one side and his face, though he is deeply concentrating on something or listening to something far off, his face is covered in sores and bruises and small cuts. I've never actually seen Floyd looking damaged in this way before.

I want to reach out and touch him, but I don't want to break his concentration though after a couple of minutes and he still hasn't moved I put my hand on his arm.

'Floyd?' I whisper to him and he turns his head slowly to look at me.

'Hey Babes.'

'What's going on?'

'I was just thinking. It's OK. Everything is going to be wonderful. I will put a promise on that.' And he smiles a rare smile and moves his hand down to mine and grabs it. 'Come with me.' And he is walking and pulling me along behind him.

'Wait, just wait up Floyd.'

He stops and turns again to look at me. 'We have some time before the others arrive. There is a delay. They are trying to resuscitate Sam, but it won't work. Just come with me. I have something to show you.'

I walk next to him into the darkness. Well what should be the darkness but the strange light seems to be following us.

'What happened? How did I get here?'

'Shush. You've been here before. The same way as last time and the time before. I brought you here.'

'And Sam?'

'Had a massive bleed on the brain. It's OK though, you don't need to worry about Sam. We are all going to be fine.'

In this strange dark place a curtain is hanging. A deep dark red. It's frayed around the edges and looks and smell ancient. Floyd pushes it aside and leads me into a very dimly lit room. I release his hand and look around it. There are soft furnishings scattered around the floor. Things…chains and manacles and hooks attached to the walls. The floor here is also made of the same soft material as outside I can't see where the light is coming from, but it lights up rows of small bottles on shelves and larger ones which look like they contain alcohol.

'What is this place?' I am walking slowly around looking at things.

'Home. My home. Do you like it?'

I turn to look at Floyd who has moved over to a pile of cushions. He smiles. 'Come on over and relax for a while. We have time.'

I don't know what to say so I slowly walk over to him and as I reach him he puts his hands on my shoulders. 'Sit and relax. Let me help you.'

I find I am kneeling in the deep softness before I realise what I'm doing and his hands are all over me. Sliding up under my Tshirt and running his fingers over my ribs. He kneels in front of me and plants kisses on my mouth. Gentle kisses…then he moves over to my ear which he blows in softly whilst touching me under my clothing. Quick touches and quick kisses and licks.

'Floyd stop it.' I don't want this. I don't know where I am or how I got here or what is going on. I need to know what he meant about Sam. I need to know what he means that this is his home. It looks like a satanic whore house. I don't want to be here and I don't want Floyd's touches.

'Stop?' His hands off me and now resting on his knees. 'You don't want me?'

'Where are we Floyd?'

'I told you. This is my home. Now off with that Tshirt.'

I wriggle back away from him but don't stand. 'I said no.'

And he smirks at me.

'Games? You want to play games with me? After all I did? After all I've done?'

He is on me so fast I didn't even have time to blink in surprise. He is tearing at my clothing as I try to fight him off me. 'Stop it! Please no Floyd don't.' But it falls on the ears of the deaf as my kicks and slaps are ignored and he is clawing at my bare flesh and hauling me back to where he wants me.

'Stop making such a fucking fuss Spence. You'd have been doing this anyway.' He is snarling between his teeth as he pulls me around onto my front and begins licking and biting on my back. At first I try to crawl away, but a punch on the back of my head and a demand to stop trying to spoil things keeps me still. I feel his hands on my hips pulling me close as he takes me hard and fast. There is nothing I can do and to be brutally honest once the pain subsides it is good. My cries of 'stop' change to moans of pleasure as he does to me what he always will do. He takes me to the edge and then right over it into oblivion.

In truth I don't really remember much of it. I remember the way he knows of all my special places. Places he touches and slides hands and fingers over if he can and moving inside me making me squirm and wriggle under him as I push back demanding more of him.

And when he has used me he just stays there for a while lying on my back and breathing over my damp sweaty skin.

When I finally think maybe he has fallen asleep, which is a strange feeling he suddenly moves away from me. I get a blanket pulled over me as he stands and redresses himself properly.

'I need a smoke.' Is all he says as he walks away from me. I roll over and pull the blanket firmly around myself looking about for my clothes. 'You need anything Babes?'

'Yes.' I don't want to say to much. My voice feels shaky and unsure of what just really happened. I think Floyd raped me, but then again…

…I enjoyed it.

He lights up a smoke and then turns to look at me. 'What do you need Spence? A drink?'

'I need you to answer my questions. Yes a drink would be good.'

So I get the drink. A big drink of something which tastes sweet, but he won't tell me what it is anymore than he will say where we are or what has happened to Sam, or in fact what happened to him. I look at my arms again. The last thing I can remember was slicing into them with the knife Taki gave me, but all there is now is a faint mark like a scar across my skin. Floyd though, he seems to be not using his left hand very much and his sleeves are pulled down covering most of his hands. He tells me to get dressed again as I sit and drink and for the first time I think after a session with Floyd I feel sore.

'We have to go and meet up with the others. Get a move on now.' And my clothes are thrown at me.

-o-o-o-

When I open my eyes the first thing I think is _I am standing_ and then _I am holding someone's hand_ and so I look to my side and see a very pissed off looking Sam standing there holding my hand tightly.

'Sam? What happened?'

'Isn't it obvious? He called me back again. I was doing good Aaron. I was doing what I was told. You didn't need to send me to that place. Why did you do that? Why didn't you just let me be? I'm not a bad person. You should have reminded me about the bathroom and stuff, I'd have done what you asked. Haven't I done all you asked me to do? Don't you like me? I thought you liked me. I thought we had a "thing" you know? I disappointed you, I know I did, but fucking hell Aaron Boot Camp?! They cut my hair off. They abused me. They whipped me and slapped me around and now look what's happened! They think I'm dead. That's great huh? How's Johnson going to feel? He and I we got on you know. He cared! He actually cared a bit, enough, it was his arms I died in and it should have been yours'

I hear the words but I'm not really listening. I learned a long time ago to block out Sam's tirades.

'Where are we?'

'Back…back where it all fucking began and if I'm not careful I'll be voided.' He starts to walk forward dragging me behind him. 'You remember this place?'

I shake my head, but he can't see that. I do though have a faint memory like from a dream of this dark strange empty place and the knots of fear are beginning to build up inside me. 'I'm not sure.' I finally tell him.

'Well last time we were here dad was told to make a choice and he chose Spence cos he gave him a blow job and persuaded him. We got left behind. I made my own sort of deal and took you back with me. Ring any bells?'

Strangely it did. It sounded familiar, but again like from a dream or nightmare. It didn't feel it was real or actually that it had happened to me.

'Then, when we get back we all find out that bloody Taki Otikami has been set on dad and if someone upsets him then we all get dragged down with him and I'm pissed off Aaron…really pissed off cos my part of the deal was working out well. Not my fucking fault he failed.'

I'm slightly confused. 'Who failed?'

'Floyd fucking Flanders bloody Franks failed again. He's lost the game and so drags us all back to moan about the rules.'

'Game? You think this is all a game? I have to go back. How do I get back?'

'You can't. You're dead. You had a heart attack and dropped dead. Sorry about that, but I wanted company.'

'Sam you aren't making any sense.' But his hand squeezes mine.

'Hush…There they are. My dad and Reid, all we need now is to find out what he thinks he is doing.'

Sam lets go of my hand and I watch him as he strides over to Flanders. I watch him grab Reid by the back of his dirty Tshirt and pull him out of the way. I walk closer and try to listen to the words being said but a sudden violent wind is howling across the blackness and it is hard enough to stay upright let alone hear anything anyone is saying.

I can see clearly though Reid moving back out of the way and I see a Sam strike Floyd across the face.

-o-o-o-

He hit me.

I could and should rip his head off again, but that would hurt me as much as it hurts him.

'I will talk to someone. I will sort it.' I tell him.

'Sort it? Like you did last time? Abandoned me and Hotchner here you did. You bastard. I am your kin, you should have chosen me.'

I start to walk away from him. 'You found your own way back. You always will. You're young yet. They will give you plenty of chances. I'm running out. I need to sort this.'

'You fucking lost don't you mean? You had Taki on your arse and you lost!'

I turn and look at him. 'I didn't lose. I returned to discuss the situation.'

'They won't talk to you! Who the hell do you think you are? You're nothing. You're nothing to them. You can't even come home when you want anymore. You've been grounded! You're a bit of shit to them Floyd. Taki is the man now. He bested you. He gutted you open! He took my head. He killed Rosa…and he raped Spencer! You think that might mean he won?'

I want to say something. I lift my hand and point at him ready…but change my mind and turn my back of the little fucker. 'Go and keep the other two company while I sort this out.'

'And when Taki comes and takes us here? Then what Floyd? Then what will you do?'

I ignore him and walk into the darkness and towards the whispering voices.

Taki is already there when I arrive.

I kneel. Taki remains standing. I keep my head down. Taki keeps looking straight ahead.

'What do you want?'

I answer. 'I need you to call Taki off.'

'A bit too late for you to come here snivelling your grievances to us.'

'I can't do my job with him on my back the whole time.'

'You didn't complain last time.'

'I'm not complaining. I am putting in a formal request to call him off so I can do what I am meant to do.'

'Go away Flanders.' The voice is a rough whisper.

'I need him called off.' I repeat.

'And what can you offer us in return for this small favour. You've given us nothing for a while now. You have spent too much time there. You need to come back and learn how to be who you are again.'

'I need to go back and complete what I was sent to do.' I have this odd feeling of worry drifting though me now.

'How many chances have you had Flanders? How many times have you been reset? How many times have we allowed you to start a fresh and each time you fail? Each time you come whimpering back to us on your knees begging for one more chance. You are out of chances. You failed. You lost.' There is a pause where all I can hear is my heart thumping in my chest. 'He took your spawn. He took Rosa. He took your companion. What more do you need him to take?'

I want to look up at them. I want to stare them in the face and plead my case, but I keep my head down. 'I fixed Sam. I re-seeded Rosa. My companion is still mine. He has not succeeded in taking me down. I have not failed. Spencer is still safe.'

'Too little too late Flanders. You have nothing to offer us anymore. You are boring and pathetic. You won't even look us in the face when you talk. Get up and let me see you.'

I don't want to stand. I don't want them to see me. I want to walk away and find somewhere dark and hibernate, but I slowly get up and look up at them.

'You are trying to please too many people at the same time Flanders. You cannot work for both teams. You will fail over and over because of this. You are weak and of no use to us.' Another pause. 'And you obviously cheated to get back here.'

'I cheated. Of course I cheated. That's what I do. I cheat and lie and destroy. That is what I am for.' I look up at their dark faces looking back at me.

'You can't fucking say I lost because I did what I am meant to do! You would be just as pissed at me if I'd not.' I take a step forward. 'I am meant to protect them. I can't do that if the rules say they have to die for me to stay there. If I die I fail. If they die I fail. If no one dies I fail! What the fuck do you want from me!?' Another step. 'I don't want this reset. I'm tired of constantly starting from the beginning of this shit. I want you to call off your little man and let me do what I am meant to damned well do!'

'And still you will try to work for both teams.'

'Is that the problem? You don't want me to leave? You want to keep me? I have the damned right to prove myself.'

'No. Flanders you have no rights. You will play our game only. You will drop the pathetic charade you have been playing since you arrived and admit that you have no feelings for those you brought with you. You will admit you care for no one. Which is why you are here in the first place. You will release your bonds with your companions. Who in the name of Hades do you think you are?'

Crap.

'My lord….' I start, but I'm cut off before I can carry on.

'Shut up now Flanders. Go away. Go back and await orders.' The voices seem to becoming more distant.

'Back? Back where?' I feel a damned awful pain I my chest which forces me back down to my knees. A buzzing in my head and a ripping pain in my back. 'NO!....you can't do this!' I shout. 'You can't ground me here!'

I hear Taki's giggle as he walks away from me.

'Fucking bastards! I've not finished!' I call after them, but they're not listening. 'You can't take him from me!'

But

I know

He has already gone.

-o-o-o-

A bright sunny spring morning. The kind I love. There is a spring in my step today as I leave my apartment and head for the BAU.

Nightmares. I've been having them again. Last night was bad. I really don't think I got much sleep and normally I would be feeling pretty awful right now, but for some reason I feel happy. I throw my messenger bag onto the passenger seat of the old Volvo I drive and head out towards the office.

I was thinking about my nightmares. Of how real it all felt at the time. I should have been concentrating on the road and it might not have happened, but that truck is heading right for me. It's not until we are almost front bumper to front bumper that I realise what is going on.

* * *

**a/n: to be continued? Or an end of the Floyd/Reid saga? **


End file.
